


Are You Mad, Honey?

by cordelia314



Category: Avengers (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: A Lot of Plot, Angst, Background Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mostly Steve/Tony, Plot, Poisoning, Torture, obscure medical things, weird illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:11:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8112307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordelia314/pseuds/cordelia314
Summary: Tony and Steve are so happy and everything is going really well. Everyone and their mother knows that never lasts for these two. Something goes wrong and deep seated issues come to light but everyone deals and there's fun Avengers battles. Happy endings for all if you make it through the angst!





	1. Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short story and just. kept. going. The ending is ehhh but it's what I could do. This is the first Avengers fic I'm posting but I love these babies so much and will gladly take constructive criticism, or compliments! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: PTSD, torture, alcoholism, suicidal ideation, depression, probably ableist language (wrote this before I was aware), and feelings of low self-worth
> 
> If you know people dealing with depression is triggering for you, this is not your fic. Please take care and be safe everyone!

"We have to go there!" Tony whined, doing his best to give Steve puppy dog eyes. Steve could see Tony’s mouth twitch, though, giving away that he was trying not to laugh. "I want to buy you dessert and they have the BEST baklava in all of New York."

Steve sighed. "I don’t even know what Baklava is, and I just want to go home. Dinner was great, but I’m full." He tried his best not to sound like he was lying, but the look Tony gave him indicated that he wasn’t very successful.

"We both know with your metabolism, that you are most certainly NOT full." His joking smile didn’t touch his eyes, where Steve could see the unnecessary concern. If anyone ever needed concern for their well being, it was always Tony, not super soldier Steve. "What’s actually wro-," he started as he touched Steve’s arm. "You’re shivering. Christ, Steve, why didn’t you just say you were cold!? I know how you hate cold."

Steve blushed and shrugged, but let out a content sigh when Tony draped his too small jacket over Steve’s shoulders. He hadn’t wanted to mention it because it wasn’t really that cold out, it was early spring. It’s just that the sun had gone down while they had dinner and now the wind chill was a bit too much for him. He was always embarrassed by his extremely low tolerance for the cold. "Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain," Steve admonished, but his voice was amused, not angry. It was a habit Tony had tried and failed to break many times. Tony laughed and waved it off.

He grabbed Steve’s hand and tugged as they started walking again. "Alright, compromise. I’ll buy us several cases of baklava, have Happy pick us up from there," he said as he whipped out his phone, thumbs flying across the keyboard as he texted his chauffeur, "then when we get home we can eat it with some nice hot chocolate. Maybe have some fun with the whipped cream…" he turned back and winked, just for the pure pleasure of seeing Steve’s blush travel down his neck. Tony knew from personal experience that that blush could, in fact, travel down quite far on Steve’s magnificent body. Steve glared, knowing full well that Tony enjoyed embarrassing Steve at all possible moments.

Before Steve knew it they were walking into a small deli that was overcrowded with clutter. There were Christmas decorations still out, and too many tables and chairs. Steve noticed a large mural on one wall of what looked like maybe Jesus in Nazareth? If it was, Steve was impressed because this depiction was more accurate to what Jesus probably actually looked like, according to that special Steve had watched on the History Channel (Steve really enjoyed the history channel, and used it to catch up on recent history). At the churches he’d been too, Jesus was always white with long flowing hair, which didn’t make sense for where he was from. His admiration for the mural was interrupted as Tony beckoned him over to the display counter, where there were rows of delicious looking desserts Steve had never seen before. "Steve, meet my buddy Abram, he’s the owner," Tony gestured to the man behind the counter.

As they shook hands, Steve noticed that his hands were a little sweaty, unconsciously taking note of everything about the man with a quick once over. It was a skill that all of them did automatically anymore, a necessary defense when you make a lot of enemies. He noticed that he looked fidgety and a little nervous, but decided it might just be his disposition. "I’ve heard so much about you, Steve. Tony likes to come in here quite often, and he always talks about you and your inexperience with foreign foods," Abram said with a smile.

Steve detected a slight accent, Afghanistan maybe. Was his smile strained? He could just be shy, Steve reminded himself. His therapist had been trying to teach him to be a little less paranoid all the time, one of the first steps to addressing the PTSD. He smiled back, trying to seem as genuine as possible, considering Tony seemed to know and trust this man. He could at least trust Tony. "It’s true. I’m kind of new around here," Steve said, though actually meaning new in this time period, "and where I was from, there was much less food variety to choose from."

"Hence why we’re here, Abram, my man, to continue remedying that travesty. We’ll take a dozen boxes of baklava, you know, with the little triangle pieces? You have the best Baklava here, I don’t know what you do that’s so special," Tony rambled, as he was wont to do.

"Lucky you I have an entire batch made special for you, my most loyal customer," Abram laughed, pulling out a white box. He turned to Steve, "I bet he hasn’t even mentioned that he comes here every Monday, has he?" Steve laughed in surprise, shaking his head. He was always learning new things about Tony. "He told me this week he’d finally bring you on Friday, so I made an extra batch this afternoon."

Tony slid a hundred across the counter, "Thanks Abram, seeya Monday, we’ve gotta get going, things to do at home, people to see, baklava to eat," he said, quickly leading Steve out of the door, deliberately talking over Abram’s protests that that was way too much money, but the sound was cut off as the door shut behind them. Thank God the door had shut because Tony’s babbling had turned to naughty actions performed with whipped cream. Steve was so happy that this was one of the less crowded streets of New York, because he most certainly did not want those quotes ending up in the tabloids.

Happy was idling at the corner and Tony grumbled about not being a woman as Steve opened the door for him and he climbed in. Steve smiled to himself because he knew Tony was most certainly a capable man who was fiercely independent (as most dames were), but he would always try to take care of Tony when he could. He firmly believed that Tony should allow people to care of him a little more often, but he also knew that it would take a long time for Tony to trust him enough to be okay with that. Tony already trusted him more than a lot of people, so he guessed he should accept the small victories.

Steve wasn’t ignorant to the fact that the heat was blasting in the car, no doubt Tony had told Happy to turn up the heat. Tony always thought of all the small details for people’s comfort and never wanted thanks. Steve wanted all the reporters and congressmen that thought Tony was an asshole to see this side of his lover. "Here ya go, boss," Happy said as they pulled up to the tower. "Good night, and Ms. Potts told me to remind you of the board meeting on Monday."

Tony grumbled about board meetings and Happy looked sympathetic but amused. "Thanks Happy," Tony groused as he shut the door, but he chuckled softly as Happy pulled away.

"Good evening, Sir. Shall I take you to your floor?" JARVIS said as they stepped into the elevator. Tony gave a thumb up as he couldn’t speak because he had already begun attacking Steve’s mouth, pushing him against the wall. Steve moaned and gently pushed Tony off of him.

Tony’s expression was hurt but Steve held up the box. "We don’t want to smush the delicious baklava you’ve been ranting about all evening. Be a little patient, we’re already here," he gestured to the opening elevator doors. Tony walked out in a huff, and he wasn’t, most definitely wasn’t pouting. Steve laughed and set the baklava down on the table as he plopped down on the couch. Tony immediately pounced on him, planting kisses along Steve’s clavicle. Steve made a low, needy groan and started at Tony’s shirt buttons, stopping to touch his hand over the beautiful, blue glow of the reactor. Tony tensed but immediately forced himself to relax. He’d come such a long way since the first time they had tried to have sex and Steve was proud. Steve had touched the reactor triggering a flashback for Tony, and he had had a full blown panic attack. Steve had to sit with him for two hours before Tony was able to talk about Obadiah and his heart being ripped from his chest by someone he had trusted. Who wouldn’t have trust issues after that?

Steve smiled up at him a little apologetically but Tony just finished ripping off his shirt, crushing their lips together all the while. He groaned as Steve slipped his tongue into Tony’s mouth, and ripped Steve’s shirt open, a couple buttons coming off in the rush. Steve sighed and pushed Tony back, giving him that disappointed mother look he somehow pulled off while still looking like a national hero. "Now I have to sew those back on," Steve said as he pulled off Tony’s jacket and his shirt, gently folding them and setting them aside.

Tony laughed and got up, "I seriously don’t know how you can destroy Nazis and giant monsters, and then magically transform into an old fashioned housewife who cooks, cleans, and sews. I’ll buy you a new one," He said as he walked into their kitchen, bringing out the tools for that hot chocolate Steve had already forgotten about. Still flushed and breathing a little shallow, he stepped up behind Tony, wrapping his arms around the genius’ waist. Tony melted into the touch of course, and leaned his head back for a chaste kiss before continuing to make the hot chocolate. "You know, it’s a little hard to do this if you’re going to waddle around behind me because you won’t let go," Tony said, but he didn’t try to move out of Steve’s arms, so Steve wasn’t going to stop.

"I’m okay with that," Steve whispered in his ear and kissed Tony’s neck, biting just a little. Tony hissed but otherwise continued what he was doing.

As the milk came to a boil, he turned around in Steve’s arms, planting a kiss on Steve’s nose, earning a funny face when Steve wrinkled his nose. "Go get the baklava and we can eat it in here with the hot chocolate."

Steve let go, immediately feeling the chill of no longer touching Tony, and went to get the baklava. Everything in his life was going so well. He finally had Tony to himself, after all that time where neither of them could admit to their feelings. He had a family in this era that cared about him. Coulson was back, so that grief was no longer hanging over all of their heads. He and Clint seemed happy, Bruce was no longer acting like he didn’t belong, Natasha actually joined them for movie nights, and Thor lived here on and off when he wasn’t off with "Lady Jane." It wasn’t the original life he’d imagined for himself as a child, but it was far better than his imagined wife and two children, living off of his art sales; although he had been thinking lately about finishing art school, just for the fun of it. As he set the box down on the counter and Tony set down their huge mugs of hot chocolate, Steve thought that his life couldn’t get much better.

Tony handed Steve one of the sticky pieces of baklava, and grabbed one for himself. They were sticky but had a flaky crust of some sort that surrounded the… honey? That’s what it smelled like. Tony was watching him expectantly, he realized, waiting for Steve to try it. Steve took a small bite, and an involuntary sound of pleasure came from him. Tony laughed. "They’re amazing, right!? I’ll admit I have a bit of a problem," he popped his entire piece in his mouth and grabbed another, "with going once a week just to get these, but I can’t help it. Oh, God," he groaned, "they put extra honey. It’s heavenly."

"Don’t talk with your mouth full, Tony," Steve chuckled as he popped the rest of the piece into his mouth. The pieces were only about the size of Tony’s palm, but they were quite dense. They really were very good. They finished them off pretty quickly, washing down the stickiness with gulps of hot chocolate. Steve was actually surprised when he reached into the box but there were none left.

"Whatever, Captain fun-sucker, I’m not a child," he punched Steve’s shoulder lightly.

"Hey!" Steve started tickling Tony and scooped him up, bridal style. Tony fidgeted, not liking to be carried, but looking satisfied when Steve laid him in his bed and pinned down his shoulders. "I’m just trying to teach you manners mister, no need for name-calling."

Steve kissed Tony deeply, while unzipping Tony’s pants. He kissed a line down Tony’s abs as he pulled the rest of Tony’s clothing off. A growl tore through Tony’s throat as Steve kissed the tip of Tony’s penis, pinning Tony’s hips down when he tried to squirm. Steve then started kissing along Tony’s inner thigh, loving to see Tony need him the way Steve needed Tony.

" _Steve,_ you’re such a tease," Tony whined, squirming under his touch. Tony managed to grab a hold of the back of Steve’s neck, tugging him up to kiss him roughly. As Tony bit down lightly on Steve’s lower lip, Tony undid Steve’s belt then shoved off the clothes with his feet. He was not having any more of this delay.

Steve stilled Tony’s roaming hands. "Will you…?" He was always embarrassed to ask.

He was very glad Tony understood, and he reached into the bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and the lube. Tony quickly slipped on the condom and held up the lube with a smile too similar to the Cheshire cat from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. "Turn over," Tony growled.

Steve did as he was told, anticipating what was next.


	2. Food Poisoning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is only the beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the beginning of things going wrong. I used one of my fave marvel villains here, but he's not in the movies, so if you really want to know more about him and you don't read comics, you can look up his Wiki. It's not really important, I just love him.

Tony’s blissful doze was broken when he felt Steve shifting and heard a groan. Tony sat up and looked over at Steve, whose face was flushed and his expression was pained. "Steve!" Tony said, shaking him awake. He felt warm to the touch.

Steve looked up at Tony and looked a little confused. "Tony?"

"JARVIS, scan his vitals," Tony commanded.

"Already on it, sir."

"Steve, do you know where you are, honey?" He pushed a sweaty strand of hair out of Steve’s face. Steve looked around and nodded, then groaned, grabbing his head.

"Sir, Captain Rogers has a fever of 101 °F, his pulse is slightly elevated, his blood pressure is lower than his norm, but he does not seem to be in a life threatening condition."

Tony let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. "Let me know if his status changes." He quickly wet a washcloth from the bathroom and laid it on Steve’s forehead. He sighed deeply and pulled Tony down next to him.

"But--"

"Shhhhh. I’m okay Tony, just a little sick. It’ll pass pretty quickly," Steve calmed him.

"But how did you get sick? I thought you didn’t get sick anymore," he whispered, "Oh God, was it the food? This is all my fault…"

"Stop, Tony. I do still get sick, it just never lasts more than an hour or so. And how would this be your fault? You didn’t cook the food, and Bruce suggested the restaurant. And he never gets sick from it. So even if it is food poisoning, it’s probably just a rare mistake at the restaur--." Steve stopped short. He jumped up and ran to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to wretch.

Tony stepped up behind him, hands fluttering around, not knowing what to do. He decided on rubbing circles in Steve’s back as he dry heaved a couple of times. Wiping his mouth with some toilet paper, he stood up and grabbed his toothbrush out of the shower. "See? I already feel a little better." He started brushing his teeth vigorously, and kept looking at Tony’s doubtful face. He spit then smiled weakly at Tony. "Seriously, I appreciate your concern, but if I lie back down I’ll be good soon. JARVIS, could you please help me?"

"He’s correct, Sir. Captain Rogers’ fever is already decreasing and his heart rate has returned to his baseline. He should rest but he is quickly returning to perfect health. That serum really is quite impressive, Captain Rogers."

"Thanks, JARVIS. C’mon Tony, just come back to bed with me. You’re not feeling sick or anything?" Steve asked.

Tony couldn’t believe he was asking about him. "I’m fine; it’s you I’m worried about."

"I’ll be fine. I just worry that if it is food poisoning, you’d be much worse off than me. But if you’re okay, I guess you’re in the clear. Tell me if you feel sick, Tony," Steve warned. He was well aware of Tony’s bad habit of pretending he was fine when he wasn’t.

"Yeah, yeah I will," Tony said, settling back into bed. They were there not 20 minutes before the alarm sounded.

They jumped out of bed without a second thought, Steve pulling his suit out of the closet and Tony pulling on clothes and running for the door. He turned before leaving the room. They both said "No, you’re not going" in unison.

"What!?" Tony blustered, "Why wouldn’t I go!? And you’re ill, just stay home, we can handle whatever this is."

"You could be ill! And I’m already recovered, so I’m definitely going."

Tony started to argue, but JARVIS interrupted, "Clint has asked me to tell you to, and I quote, ‘hurry their asses or I’m going to shoot at their feet to get them moving.’ Might I add that by my scanners, you are both healthy?"

They both sighed. "See you soon," Tony said and ran off to suit up.

An hour later they were still trying to kill off these annoyong AIM goons and MODOK. The underlings were easy enough to incapacitate, but there were quite a lot of them. Tony could not for the life of him understand why any of these people wanted to follow a murderous floating head/computer thing. Of course he understood the more complicated parts of what MODOK is and what his motivations are, but why would people keep joining AIM? They were just signing up to be MODOK’s slaves and sacrifices.

Tony felt sweat pouring down his face, which was weird. Maybe he’d been working harder than he thought? That seemed unlikely since apparently MODOK was content to let his grunts do all the dirty work before he’d even join the fight, always ducking back and hiding when one of them got close to him.

He dropped off another couple goons by Agent (his name is Agent, not Phil, just Agent, he was standing by that). He circled around in the air again, taking stock of the situation. Each of the avengers was knocking several people unconscious at a time, then leaving them for the seemingly endless stream of SHIELD agents to cuff and detain. There were finally only a couple dozen left, and Hawkeye was quickly knocking them down with Tony’s knockout arrows with Bruce’s formula in them that just puts them to sleep. "JARVIS, scan the area, I’m not seeing MODOK."

"I apologize sir, but he seems to have developed a way to cloak himself from my scans."

Tony heard the sound of MODOK’s hovering chair too late and turned in time for one of his telekinetic force blasts to hit Tony in the left shoulder, sending him crashing into a nearby office building. He brushed off the debris and took to the air again. Ow, his shoulder ached. Sometimes it was easy to forget what getting hit felt like because a lot of things didn’t hit hard enough to hurt through the armor. He came around the building and shot a repulsor blast at MODOK, who was heading towards Hawkeye’s vantage point. He dodged easily, but Hawkeye took the hint.

"Thor, come move me to a new spot, please." Tony heard over the comms.

"At once, I come, brother!" Thor boomed both over the comms and loud enough to be heard from a distance.

There had to be a way to catch MODOK off guard. He was so quick to calculate all the probabilities of when and where each of them would strike, acting accordingly. The AIM scientists were all rounded up, so all that was left was this monstrosity. Cap’s shield was easily deflected by MODOK’s hand and he quickly swerved to the side to avoid Hulk crashing down on top of him. He even fired a repulsor blast at the knife Black Widow threw, and Tony never saw anyone beat Natasha in a battle of reflexes.

Tony flew in circles, firing a couple blasts, knowing they would miss while he tried to come up with a plan. His breathing was getting kind of labored and he wondered if that telekinetic blast had broken a rib or something, because he really hadn’t done much. Maybe he should stop going in circles too, because he was getting a little dizzy.

"Sir I would like to inform you that your blood pressure has dropped significantly from your baseline."

"I’ll have to worry about that later, JARVIS. Cap," he said over the comm, "what’s the plan?"

"Iron Man, see if you can trick him into the dead end on East 19th. Natasha and Hawkeye, you beat them there and hide. Hulk wait within jumping distance until he’s there. Thor will come in from above, and I’ll follow behind Iron Man and MODOK," Steve commanded.

"Roger that."

"Copy."

"Aye."

"If flag guy says so."

"I’m on it, Cap," Tony finished, closing in on MODOK, dodging his blasts. He fired a small missile, knowing it would miss but definitely get his attention.

MODOK zoomed towards him, laughing maniacally. "You think you can defeat me Iron Man? I am the most powerful mechanized genius in the world! You are just a dimwit in some out-dated armor compared to me." He fired more blasts at Tony.

"At least I can walk and get a date," Tony taunted, "I have real political power and wealth and am one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. What power do you really have? Some small time scientists who follow your orders? We took them down easily!" All the while Tony was dodging MODOK’s blasts. He knew he’d have trouble hitting him or outsmarting him. His only hope was to insult MODOK’s ego, because he was quite the angry megalomaniac. Unfortunately, the blasts were getting harder and harder to dodge as Tony slowly moved their fight towards 19th. He was short of breath and his shoulder was aching so badly it was radiating down his arm and into his chest. Was that his heart pounding in his ears? It was uneven, and he felt it.

"Sir, I must inform you that your heart rate is dropping despite your physical activity, and your blood pressure is dangerously low."

"Can you pump some of that emergency adrenaline into me, JARVIS? We’re hopefully almost finished here."

"I advise against that as it is only a temporary solution and you may be worse when it wears off," JARVIS was worried.

"I understand, but I need you to. Once we take him down, I promise to go to medical." Tony knew what he was asking for. But he couldn’t very well leave MODOK running amuck, could he? Once they took care of the threat, he could be taken care of. And if it was too late? Well, the others could get on without him, he left all his money to Pepper with the instructions to manage the Avengers. Steve would be angry, but he’d deal eventually… Tony hoped.

"As you wish, Sir." Tony felt a spike of energy and his heart sped up. It became a little easier to breathe so he brought back the taunting.

"Look at you! You’re nobody. Nobody takes you seriously, or AIM in general. If you were in a cartoon, you would just be made the ridiculous floating head that provides comic relief. No child would be afraid of you!" He dove low to avoid more blasts and fired another missile. They were finally on 19th. "In fact, you seem pretty unintelligent to me! You’re not even worth my time."

"I will teach you to regret such words!" MODOK roared, and Tony shot one of his larger missiles before flying full speed down the street. "You idiot! You have trapped yourself in a dead end," MODOK laughed.

"No, you’re the idiot," Tony said as he landed on the ground, crossing his arms. All at once the rest of the Avengers seemingly came out of nowhere, and MODOK couldn’t defeat all of them at once. Luckily as he shot out his last blast before they placed the jammer on his head, it only hit the Hulk, who seemed to think it tickled. No wonder MODOK had done his best to avoid Hulk this whole time.

Tony watched as Steve shoved an incapacitated MODOK into the back of a SHIELD van, feeling pride that his team had won yet again. He felt knocking behind his arc reactor, and suddenly it was harder to breathe again. "What was that, JARVIS?" Tony rasped.

"That would be heart palpitations, Sir. I believe you are having a heart attack."

A wave of nausea and pain sent Tony to his knees and he opened the face plate, trying to get more air. "Help…" he said weakly. It felt like a Hulk was sitting on his chest. His vision was going black around the edges. He saw Natasha and Steve running towards him as his eyes closed and he fell to the ground.

Distantly he heard JARVIS’ panicked voice, "And now you’re going into cardiac arrest."

_Shit, Steve’s gonna be pissed._


	3. Rhododendrons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve beats himself up because _obviously_ this is his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're still with me? I'm so excited! In the next few chapters we get into the angst!

Steve slammed the door shut and let out a sigh. If MODOK didn’t have such an ego and superiority complex, he probably would have been much harder to defeat. Tony had explained to him before how MODOK always seemed to know what they would do before they did it. His ability to calculate probabilities so well was truly astonishing. The only way they had defeated them last time was when Tony had decided to act impulsively and irrationally in order to be unpredictable. That had been way too risky and Tony had broken several bones. After the riot act Steve had read him that time, Tony agreed to ask Steve for a plan before taking desperate measures from then on.

He turned, and seeing Tony, his heart sank. His lover was on his knees and his faceplate lifted. It looked like Tony couldn’t breathe, his mouth gaping and his expression pained. He clutched at his chest as he fell to the ground. Steve didn’t even register that he was running until he was next to Tony, shaking him and yelling.

"He’s not breathing and I don’t have a pulse," Natasha was beside him, speaking into her comm.

Steve was trembling as he gripped Tony’s hand. Natasha and Clint had to pry him away as the medics laid Tony onto the stretcher, Bruce undoing the safety latches of Tony’s suit in nothing but boxers. The pieces of the suit were strewn on the pavement as Tony was wheeled away, the medics already doing CPR before they made it to the ambulance. Steve couldn’t look away as they drove off, and he was glad for Natasha and Clint’s steady hands, holding him up because his knees were weak.

What the hell was happening? Everything seemed like it had been going so well. This was all his fault; he should have pushed harder when Tony decided to come. Whatever had got him mildly ill had been bound to affect Tony severely, as little as Tony took care of himself on a normal day. But JARVIS had said he was okay… If it was the same thing, why had it been a delayed reaction for Tony? He should have seen this coming.

Steve didn’t even know he was repeating "All my fault, all my fault, all my fault" until Bruce shook him. When had he gotten dressed?

"Steve, Steve, look at me. You have to stay with us, or you’ll go into shock. Steve, do you hear me?" Bruce forced Steve to look into his eyes. Steve saw the worry there and willed himself to speak.

"Okay," he croaked. He vaguely felt Natasha rubbing small circles into his shoulder. He nodded, "Yeah, okay. I’m here." His voice a little stronger.

"Good, Natasha and I will take you to medical, Clint and Thor can go to debrief and that’ll have to be enough for Fury," Bruce said firmly. Nobody questioned the doctor when he started giving commands, which was a very rare occasion.

"We’ll take care of it, you guys go," Clint said as Thor nodded solemnly. They boarded the evac helicopter as Natasha pushed Steve into the back of a nondescript black SHIELD car with Bruce on his other side.

The ride to the hospital was excruciating. He fidgeted, knowing that they couldn’t move any faster. Natasha handed him a tissue and Steve stared at it, confused. She sighed and gently used it to wipe away the tears he didn’t know were there. He gripped Bruce’s hand, probably too hard, but Bruce didn’t mention it.

They rushed into the emergency department, immediately spotting Coulson in the lobby beckoning to them. They followed him without hesitation, and he led them to waiting room on the third floor. "JARVIS took the liberty of texting me that Tony was most likely going to have a heart attack a few moments before Tony landed," Coulson said calmly and quietly. "Now how he knew that, I would like to know. I’ve been told by the doctors that Tony’s chances of survival are good because care happened so quickly, but slightly lessened because they didn’t get to him before cardiac arrest. That’s what I know."

Steve collapsed into the nearest chair, trembling again. A heart attack? He thought those were something old people had. Was this related to his illness earlier? He held his face in his hands, unable to look at any of them. He startled up when he heard the door open and a doctor walked out to them.

"Hi, I’m Dr. Stein. I’m going to need as much information as you guys can provide me with. Our tests are suggesting a heart attack, but the results are debatable because the arc reactor is in the way. His heart is beating again but he’s not stabilized. We’re having trouble keeping his heart rate and blood pressure up even with the usual treatment."

_Oh God, this didn’t sound good._

They all looked at Steve. "You were with him all evening before the alarm. If anyone knows something, it’s you," Natasha said, taking care not to sound accusatory.

"Uhm, well I got sick a couple hours ago, and we ate at the same restaurant?" Steve tried. He felt sick now, but that was probably the terror gripping him.

Bruce shook his head, "No, this isn’t food poisoning. What did you do after dinner?"

Steve took in a shaky breath, "We went and got baklava, then came home. We ate that and had some hot chocolate, then we…" he blushed, "went to bed…"

"Baklava?" the doctor asked.

"It’s a dessert made mostly of phyllo dough and honey," Bruce supplied when Steve shrugged.

The doctor snapped her fingers. "Mad Honey Disease!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, we’ll have him stabilized as soon as possible, and we’ll update you then. Stay here." With that, she whipped around and stalked back through the double doors.

Steve clenched his fists until his nails were digging into his palms. Tony already had a bad heart, what if it was too damaged now? Tony would never be okay with taking it easy for the rest of his life. Being Iron Man was too important to him. Despite Steve’s best efforts, Tony refused to believe he had any value in the world beyond being a hero. He conveniently ignores his stunning intellect and overflowing generosity that makes the world a better place.

"What is Mad Honey Disease?" Natasha asked Bruce.

"It sounds made up," Coulson chimed in.

Bruce’s hands were already flying across the Stark tablet he must have brought from the car. "It’s also known as rhododendron poisoning. Apparently you can get it by eating honey made from bees that pollinated rhododendrons, a poisonous flower. It very rarely is this severe and even more rarely leads to a heart attack."

"Then why did I get it hours earlier?" Steve asked. He focused on not hyperventilating. Steve knew he should have kept Tony home.

"It says here that symptoms can show from as little as 15 minutes after ingestion up to 3 hours. My guess is that your metabolism being so much faster made the digestion of the toxins happen sooner, and the serum made it a mild case. Tony should have had warning signs before it progressed to a heart attack though." Bruce took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked immensely disappointed. "Knowing Tony he did, but ignored them."

"So they were poisoned?" Natasha asked, always seeing things in a different light than Steve.

_The nervous deli owner,_ Steve thought. _Maybe Abram had poisoned them. Steve should have listened to his gut feelings about the guy. But Tony trusted him…_

" Not necessarily," Steve heard Bruce say, but the conversation was sounding far away. "Accidental cases occur when unprocessed honey is used because it’s not inspected for the toxins."

"Cap doesn’t look so good," Clint said, striding in with Thor right behind. Steve was pale and sweating, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

Steve knew he needed to calm down, but his body wasn’t listening to him. "Shit shit shit," Clint muttered, jogging over to kneel in front of Steve. "He’s having a panic attack, Phil. You’re good with this stuff."

Clint gripped Steve’s thighs, grounding him a little, stopping that feeling that he was falling away. Phil knelt beside Steve, one hand on Steve’s shoulder, squeezing. "Steve, I need you to slow your breathing. You’re going to take a breath and hold it for 5 seconds then blow it out slowly," Phil’s voice was soothing and perfectly calm. Only Clint could hear the worry underlying Phil’s tone. Steve tried to follow the directions, managing to hold the air for 3 seconds and not completely blow it all out at once. "Now try to match my breathing. In… Out… In…" he held Steve’s hand to his chest, making sure Steve could feel Phil’s chest rise and fall. Slowly Steve’s color returned and he opened his fists, though he felt blood trickle from where his nails had gone in too far.

"Abram," Steve breathed. "Abram was the guy that gave us the baklava. He made a separate batch just for Tony. Tony seemed to know him pretty well, but he seemed nervous to me."

"That does seem suspicious," Natasha said quietly, pulling out her phone.

"I disregarded it, thinking it was my paranoia. What if this was deliberate? This is all my fault." Steve slumped into his chair, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"No, it isn’t," Thor said darkly. "If this be a poisoning, the coward responsible will feel my wrath. Hiding behind a chemical is no way to face an enemy with honor." The static in the air was palpable. Thor could be terrifying sometimes.

Just then the doctor came through the door and any thoughts about Abram dissipated, leaving room only for worry. "He’s stable." Everyone sighed in relief. "Once we knew what it was, treatment is straightforward. It doesn’t look like there was too much damage to the cardiac tissue, but with the state his heart was already in before, he’s going to need to take it easy for at LEAST a month if not longer. We have him on oxygen right now, since his lung capacity is so diminished. His left clavicle is broken, probably from battle, a couple ribs broke in CPR, and we have him sedated right now to reduce pain and unneeded stress that won’t be good for him."

"Can we see him?" Steve asked, his voice wavering.

The doctor looked around the room. "Normally I’d say only if you’re immediate family…" When she looked at everyone’s pained expressions she sighed. "I take it none of you are."

Steve wanted to cry. Really? He was basically immediate family. "I’m his boyfriend. Does that count?" he asked, standing on shaky legs.

She shook her head. "No, if you were his husband it would…" When nobody said anything, but stood in awkward silence, she sighed again. "Alright, three of you at a time, the room’s not that big and he needs to rest. I won’t limit you to visitation hours, but only because of who you are. Don’t make me revoke that right." She looked sternly at each of them. "Clear?"

"Clear," Coulson said, standing and looking in charge. "Clint and I can go in first, just to see him real quick and then we have to head to HQ to do paperwork. Then Natasha and Bruce can replace us but Bruce needs to get some rest after Hulking out. And Thor…"

"I must go to Asgard and speak with my Father. I can check on Tony through Heimdall so I will know when his status changes."

"Good. No one can run themselves ragged because of this. I still need you battle ready in case another threat appears," Coulson’s tone was all business and brooked no argument, but they all knew that it really meant he was relieved that Tony wasn’t dead and that he had faith in his recovery.

Steve noticed that no one mentioned him and that Coulson spoke of them in twos. He was grateful that it was assumed he’d be there the whole time, at his lover’s side. He followed Dr. Stein, Phil and Clint trailing behind through the double doors. Tony was three rooms down on the right.

The doctor stopped in front of the closed doors. "Remember, right now he’s heavily sedated and being closely monitored. He shouldn’t wake up tonight, but if he does wake up before he’s supposed to, hit the call button right away." With that she left them.

It was so quiet in the hallway, since it was just past 3:30 in the morning. Steve took a steadying breath and opened the doors. His eyes landed on Tony immediately, looking haggard and exhausted in bed. There were IVs sticking out of his left hand and one in the same arm. The oxygen tube was hooked in his nose and his breathing was steady. Steve found himself matching Tony’s breathing as he sat in the chair on Tony’s right. He looked so small and fragile.

"I’m gonna kick your ass for scaring the shit out of me, shell-head," Clint said, scanning Tony’s body with a practiced eye, cataloging his condition. Steve knew Clint’s way of showing love was threats and insults. He bent down and kissed Tony’s forehead, then backed into the corner, waiting for Phil.

Phil stroked Tony’s hair with a small smile on his face. "Thank goodness you survived, I don’t have time for the mound of paperwork that comes with one of you idiots dying." He looked up at Steve, "I’ll send the others in, take care." Phil wrapped his arm around Clint as they walked out together. Steve knew they both understood seeing their lover nearly die all too well. Clint had had to actually deal with Phil’s death. That had been horrific.

Natasha and Bruce walked in, and Steve noticed Bruce reading all of Tony’s monitors with a focused look before actually lowering his eyes to Tony. Natasha sat on the edge of the bed, her hand ghosting over Tony’s chest. She was fiercely protective of Tony, and she had known him longer than the others had. They pulled up two chairs and sat on his other side quietly, saying nothing. They were going to stay and keep an eye on Steve, he knew; make sure he didn’t break down again. But Steve wouldn’t, not tonight. Right now he was just kind of numb inside.

He reached out and laid his hand on top of Tony’s, but Tony was too heavily sedated to react to the touch. It was weird really, seeing Tony like this. Sure, he’d seen Tony injured plenty of times. The man had zero self preservation. But the injuries had always been more visible; blood seeping from a concussion, burns across his back, bullet wounds the time someone shot him without the suit, but this… It looked like Tony was just sleeping. He could see the bandages peeking out from under the gown, splinting the broken bones a little, but otherwise, nothing. Yet this had been the closest Tony had been to death in the time Steve had known him. A heart attack, of all the things to take down Iron Man, a heart attack caused by honey. And it could have been easily avoided.

"So let me see if I understand this correctly," Steve said quietly. "If Tony would have said something as soon as the symptoms started, all he would have needed was some atropine and maybe some IV fluids?"

Bruce sighed heavily. "Yes, and he would have been completely healthy in two days at the most," he said in a monotone. Steve knew that tone. Bruce was very upset with Tony, but making sure he was calm enough to not Hulk out.

"Tony will have an explanation for his actions, he always does," Natasha said, sounding long-suffering. "It won’t be a satisfying explanation by our standards I’m sure, but he’ll think it made sense."

No one had anything to say after that. They all knew it was true. For some reason this genius was willfully ignorant enough to always think self-sacrifice was the only way. Steve was starting to think Tony wanted to die, at least subconsciously. He obviously didn’t like his life enough to protect it. Steve should have been a better boyfriend for Tony, maybe then he would want to keep living. Just more ways Steve had failed to protect another loved one.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Natasha and Bruce leave. He just fell asleep in the upright position, his hand still settled atop Tony’s and his chin laying on his chest.


	4. Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers wait for Tony to wake up. Pepper is so tired of Steve and Tony's shit. Poor Pepper, Rhodes and JARVIS, the Tony crew that aren't even there during battles to protect him. Nobody even calls them until something's wrong. Loving Tony can be very tiring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy writing Pepper in this fic. She's gonna be a big part of the prequel on how Tony and Steve got together, and I always feel like she's tearing her hair out at these two, exasperatedly saying "Boys!" She's like Hermione if Tony and Steve were Harry and Ron in goblet of fire.

Steve startled awake as the nurse came in. He smiled at him as she checked Tony’s vitals and IVs, adjusting their drip rate. "We’re gonna lower his drug rate so he wakes up in about six hours, alright?" the nurse asked, bright and cheery in the morning. Steve nodded. "He’ll be pretty drowsy so he stays relaxed, then we’ll need to let him sleep again until tomorrow morning. He should get to go home the next day." He looked at the clock, 9:00AM. By the way he felt he probably got an hour and a half of sleep at the most. That was plenty for him, though, since his nightmares were torturous last night.

Tony had been standing at the end of a hall, a knife in his chest, blood oozing out of the wound. He said, "Don’t worry, Steve. We’re all better off this way." Steve had screamed and ran towards Tony as he slid down the wall in slow motion. The hallway just kept stretching the distance between them, though. When the arc reactor’s light had flickered out and Tony let out a long dying breath, Steve had just crumpled, sobbing that he was sorry. Needless to say, he didn’t want to sleep any more right now.

Tony was still out cold, which was good. Steve wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. He didn’t know what he would say to him. At least he knew he had time to think of something. He wasn’t even angry, which surprised him. He wished Tony would have said he was feeling sick like he promised, but it was getting old. Steve just felt guilty, and tired and dead inside. The more he went over the events of yesterday in his head, the more confident he grew in the fact that the entire thing was his fault.

A younger woman, probably 18 but seemed like a child to Steve walked in wearing scrubs. "Hi, I’m Julie, I’ll be Tony’s PCA for this shift. I’m just going to turn him on his side, alright?"

Steve was confused. "Uhm, sure? Will that hurt his broken bones? I don’t know how this works," Tony had never been out this long. And wow, his voice was gruff.

"Oh, no, honey." Steve was baffled that such a young dame was calling him honey. "I’m gonna lean him on his better side with plenty of pillows. We just can’t let him get any bedsores." She smiled shyly. Steve let go of Tony’s hand and watched warily as she washed her hands then carefully scooted and turned Tony, propping Tony on a pillow so there was no actual pressure on his ribs, putting one underneath his right leg and between his arms like a Teddy bear. He relaxed when he noticed how gingerly she did everything. Even if Tony hadn’t been drugged, he wouldn’t have felt a thing. She bowed her head at him as she left the room.

Dr. Stein came in next, looking at the changes the nurse had made to the chart. "You can tell your friends they’re all allowed in during the day," she sounded tired too. "I promise we are providing him with the best care we can." She checked Tony’s monitors as she talked, then stopped to rest her hand on Steve’s shoulder.

"Thank you Dr. Stein. It means a lot," ah, that sounded less like he was about to cry.

"I do my best." She walked out leaving the door open, her ponytail swayed behind her.

Steve looked around the room, letting himself wake up fully, but there wasn’t much to see so his eyes wandered back to Tony. He really was lucky Dr. Stein was so accommodating. Steve had forgotten about hospital rules of immediate family only; Tony didn’t even have any. As soon as Dr. Stein had said it, the idea had been growing in his mind: why wasn’t he Tony’s husband? It’s not as if he was afraid of the commitment. He definitely loved Tony, and had already decided to stay with him until one of them died. So what were they waiting on?

Steve sighed. Something to dwell on later, he guessed. He pulled out his phone, sending a mass text to everyone to update them, including Pepper and Rhodes. He vaguely wondered if Thor got bars in Asgard. His phone buzzed in his lap.

**The sleeping princess gets to wake up today?** – Clint

**Did it take true love’s kiss? XOXO** – Clint

**Phil says I’m being insensitive and that I should apologize. XP** – Clint

**Sorry Clint’s a small child, ETA in 30 min.** – Phil

**I’ve got Pep, we’ll be there in about an hour.** – Colonel Rhodes

Steve smiled at the tiny screen. Barton had to make jokes out of everything, and Steve wouldn’t have it any other way. They all loved Tony so much, if only Tony could see it when it wasn’t being shoved down his throat. Steve wished he could get a better understanding of what happened during the battle yesterday before Tony woke up. He wanted to know Tony’s actions without any omissions, something he’d be hard pressed to get from Tony. He mentally walked through yesterday again.

Tony had been healthy when the alarm sounded, but when did the symptoms start? Tony’s performance in battle had been stellar as usual, definitely not noticeably impaired. His voice had sounded slightly strained on the comm when he asked for a plan of attack, but Steve had figured it was because he was flying in circles and shooting while he spoke. There certainly hadn’t been worry in the tone. Maybe it wasn’t severe yet at that point? Once they had started the plan though, Tony had been busy taunting MODOK. There was a moment when Tony had turned off his comm, as he did when talking to JARVIS. That conversation had to have some clues. JARVIS never let Tony risk his health without fair warning and often had to be ordered to allow Tony’s actions.

Steve didn’t really believe Tony when he said that JARVIS isn’t capable of caring because his "emotions" were just representations of coding, which Tony had proceeded to rattle off as a string of letters and numbers that Steve had no hope of understanding. JARVIS had even acted against Tony’s orders on rare occasions when he believed he knew better (which he often did). If he truly had no feelings, he wouldn’t be able to go against orders. Steve was no expert on artificial intelligences by all means, but he decided to believe that JARVIS had grown beyond his coding. He thinks Tony believed it too, but he’d never admit it.

Natasha walked in first, the other Avengers filing in behind them, bringing some more chairs. Everyone looked like they hadn’t slept much either, though probably more than Steve. Natasha handed him a Stark tablet pulling a chair up beside him. At Steve’s questioning look, she explained, "JARVIS said he could talk to you through that. That if you powered it up and used your fingerprint, he’d basically be here with us. But only your print."

"Oh, okay, thanks." She shrugged. The others sat in various positions around the room.

Clint nearly lurched forward as if struck with a blow, "Wait a second!" Everyone just looked at him so he sat back a little but whatever he was thinking still had him antsy. "Why the hell didn’t his arc reactor keep his heart beating? Like it was definitely still working, and isn’t that it’s job?"

"That’s not quite how it works," Bruce provided, because everyone looked a bit like Clint was onto something. "It’s not a pacemaker; it’s just holding the shrapnel in place. His heart will eventually stop without the reactor, but it can still stop with it; he’s not immortal."

"I guess that makes sense," Clint slumped in his chair.

"So he should wake up around 3?" Bruce asked Steve.

"That’s what Dr. Stein said. He’ll still be groggy and will probably sleep a lot tonight too. Then he can come home in two days,”" Steve relayed the information.

"I’m going to have to make a schedule just so someone is constantly watching him," Coulson sighed. When everyone looked at him, clearly expecting more, he elaborated, "You guys don’t honestly think Stark will follow the order to ‘take it easy,’ do you? I’ll be surprised if we don’t have to sedate him ourselves. I assume tasing him would be inappropriate."

Bruce barked a laugh then covered his mouth, blushing. "Yeah, uh, no, a taser would be bad for a recovering heart. Though I’m sure the temptation will arise."

Steve looked down at the tablet, powering it on. He hoped this would give him some answers. It powered up and had a small circle in the middle that said "press print here." Steve pressed his index finger to the screen, aware that everyone had stopped talking to watch.

"Captain Rogers," JARVIS’ voice came from the small speakers. The screen flipped to camera mode, showing Steve his lap. "Good to speak to you. Thank you, Ms. Romanov."

"Hey JARVIS," Steve said loudly, not sure where the microphone was on the tablet.

"No need to speak up, Captain Rogers," his voice bemused, "I can hear just fine. Could you please do me a favor and show me Sir? I feel seeing him alive will comfort me."

"Su-sure," Steve stuttered, lifting the pad so the camera view was on Tony. It had taken long enough to get used to talking to JARVIS at the tower, it was even more disconcerting on a Stark tablet. It was kind of like video chat, but the other person didn’t have a face.

The camera took dozens of pictures rapidly, zooming in on various parts of Tony and different monitors. Steve watched in awe, seeing JARVIS’ meticulous cataloging of everything Tony-related in action for the first time. "Thank you, Captain Rogers. I am content for now." The camera view flipped and Steve was looking at himself for a split second before averting his eyes. He didn’t think he could stomach the sight of himself right now, his self-loathing being so strong at the moment.

"Call me Steve," he replied out of habit, but JARVIS never obliged. "So, uhm, JARVIS, why am I the only one who could turn on the tablet?"

"Sir programmed this tablet for you specifically Captain Rogers. After the most recent occasion in which Tony was hospitalized and you yelled at him," Steve looked ashamed at that memory, "Sir decided that if it happened again and I had information stored that he could not relay while unconscious, I would be automatically obligated to relay such information to you, but only you. This tablet is using the Tower’s main server as a proxy server; therefore I am as present here as I am when you are home."

Steve didn’t really understand what a proxy server was, but didn’t care to question it. JARVIS had said he had information, hopefully from the battle. "Can you tell me everything that happened between you and Tony during the battle? Did you have his health scanners on the whole time? Did Tony know this would happen? Did he say to tell me anything?" the questions spilled out of his mouth, the words barely making it out in full before the next word came tumbling out. Steve had had the questions running circles in his head all night after all.

"I sincerely apologize for any miscommunication, Captain Rogers. I am only allowed to relay the information to you." JARVIS sounded like he was waiting for something to click.

Steve looked around the room and it hit him. "Oh! Everyone else can hear… but JARVIS, I don’t want to leave Tony’s side…" he was torn.

"Nor do I desire to leave Sir. May we speak via text if Ms. Romanov moves further away?" JARVIS asked. Natasha scooted away without a word. Everyone looked at each other awkwardly before starting conversation back up, talking about ways to keep Tony away from his suits while he recovered. Steve tuned them out and looked at the tablet.

The screen had gone white and there was a touch screen keyboard at the bottom. There were lines quickly forming at the top.

**J: Please forgive Sir for not telling you. He was only doing what he erroneously thought was the best course of action. Sir did not listen to my cautions against his decision but I have observed Sir for a long time, and there was no malicious intent in withholding information.**

_S: JARVIS, I’m not angry with Tony. I just want to know what happened._

**Sir is lucky to have protection such as you who accepts his abnormal and erratic behavior. I am glad that there is someone with a body to knock sense into him when I cannot.**

Steve’s heart ached as he read the words, because he hadn’t protected Tony. He had failed miserably.

**Which of your questions would you prefer me to address first?**

_Were you scanning his vitals during the battle?_

**Always.**

_Were there warning signs?_

**Sir began sweating profusely about 45 minutes into battle, although his activity level did not warrant it. Over the following 20 minutes his breathing became increasingly labored as his lungs could not inflate fully and his oxygen saturation levels were dropping. His clavicle was broken when a telekinetic force blast hit him between his shoulder and the arc reactor. His heart rate was slowing, although it should have been rising. His blood pressure started dipping just before you started the plan to trap MODOK. While taunting MODOK, the blood pressure dipped to dangerous lows and his breathing became more erratic. After being injected with emergency adrenaline, his vitals picked up before dropping suddenly when Sir landed. That was when the palpitations and myocardial infarction occurred.**

_He has emergency adrenaline in the suit!?_

**Sir prepares for a lot of scenarios.**

_Did he know about all of this as it was happening?_

**I am unable to speak for what all Sir may have noticed, but he did know some.**

_Would you care to elaborate on that? Did you two speak about this?_

**I warned him when the blood pressure first lowered, and again when it dipped further along with the heart rate. I am incapable of administering the adrenaline injection without his order to do so, which he did despite my advice against it. Sir was made aware that by asking for the injection, he may be in worse condition when it wore off. I am afraid that Sir felt he had no choice, but promised me to go to medical as soon as MODOK was apprehended.**

_You didn’t want him to continue like that, did you?_

**I only want what’s best for Sir at all times. I would have strongly preferred that he sought medical attention sooner.**

_Is there anything else I should know, JARVIS?_

**Unless you would like to hear the recording of the battle, which I would have to ask you to leave the room for.**

_No, not now. I’m staying until Tony wakes up at the very least._

**Very well.**

_Thanks JARVIS._

**Of course, Captain Rogers. If you would so kindly place me so that I can watch Sir, I would be grateful.**

_One sec._

Steve placed the tablet on the bedside table and looked around the room. At some point Pepper and Rhodey had shown up while Steve was engrossed in the conversation with JARVIS. Julie knocked and walked in again, introducing herself before washing her hands. Clint watched her with sharp eyes, Natasha watched in that way that looked like she wasn’t, and Thor visibly made himself more menacing with his stance. When Julie turned around from the sink she balked.

"Guys," Steve stood up. "She’s just here to turn Tony. I’ve seen her do it, she doesn’t hurt him." He looked at all of them, and each of them relaxed, but not completely. This kind of life made all of them on edge at all times.

Julie smiled at Steve, and he was reminded of how young she looked. She truly was pretty brave to step into a room full of jumpy superheroes, and not run out screaming. "Thanks for vouching," she let out a light laugh, as if this were everyday for her. "I promise this is the last time I have to move him. As the sedation wears off he’ll start moving on his own again." She went about her work, carefully placing Tony back in the supine position with practiced hands. Thor watched curiously over her shoulder, and when she finished, they met face to face. To her credit, she didn’t startle. "May I get anything for you, sir?"

Thor chuckled softly. "Thank you, Lady Julie." She looked like she might laugh at the title, but held it in. "I was just wondering why you must move Tony?" His eyes sparked with curiosity; he was always fascinated by "Midgardian" medicine.

"Have you heard of bedsores?" she asked him. He shook his head. "When healthy people sleep, we move all the time," Steve could tell she genuinely liked explaining her job. "If we stayed still for too long, as someone under this much sedation might, any part of our skin that isn’t getting enough circulation because of the constant pressure will start to die. That dead skin can cause a lot of problems, like serious infection."

She did jump this time, when Thor pulled her in for a hug. "How magnificent!" he boomed. "You think of the smallest details when caring for the wounded and ill."

When he let go she staggered back a little. "Y-yes," she stuttered. "We do our best. Thanks for… noticing?" She quickly washed her hands and left the room. Steve couldn’t blame her, but he shook his head. She still handled that amazingly. Steve was going to need to have a talk with Thor about touching without consent.

"Could you give us the summary, Steve?" Bruce asked from the corner.

Steve sighed, and Pepper leaned forward in her seat, propping her head up with an elbow in her lap. "It sounds like Tony knew something was wrong, but maybe not how severe it was. He had JARVIS inject adrenaline to keep him going, and when that wore off, he went down."

"Jesus shit, he has adrenaline in the suit!?" Clint exclaimed.

"Does that really surprise you, knowing Tony?" Bruce asked, cleaning his glasses.

Pepper stood. "I’m going to go get coffee from the cafeteria. Could you join me, Steve?" She gave him a pointed look. Steve looked at Tony and back at her, his hesitation clear in his face. She pointed to the clock, "He’s not waking up for another couple hours, Steve, he’ll be alright."

"Yeah," he sighed, wiping his face with his hand, a gesture of exhaustion. "That sounds like a good idea Ms. Po—Pepper." He remembered this time to use her nickname; well, sort of.

He followed her through the halls, her heels clicking loudly. They didn’t say anything until they had coffee in their hands and were sitting in a corner of the cafeteria, Steve worried about what she had to say. He really wasn’t in the right state to deal with a lecture right now, even though this was his fault.

Pepper studied him intently then softened her features with a smile. "How are you feeling, Steve?" she asked quietly.

"I’m sorry," he blurted, thinking this was a very different conversation. "Wait, what?"

"I asked how you’re feeling," she repeated calmly.

"Oh. Uhm, tired and worried I guess. Why do you ask?" he really didn’t know why they were here. As much as he liked Pepper, they didn’t tend to talk one on one, not since the whole mess before he and Tony started dating. That… if Pepper hadn’t been there to clean up the mess, Steve didn’t know how bad it would’ve gotten.

"Steve, I’ve done this before. I dated Tony while he was Iron Man too. I know exactly how you feel, and I want to make sure you’re okay. It’s easy to forget about your own health when Tony is asleep in a hospital. I don’t just mean physically, either," she looked at him seriously. "Why were you going to apologize?"

"I, uh, wow," he floundered for the right words. "I thought we were here to talk about how he ended up here…" He took a long drink of the coffee, just to stall for time a little.

"Steve," she bit out. "Good God, you think this is your fault, don’t you?" She put her head in her hands, shaking it tiredly. "What am I going to do with the two of you? You can’t protect him from everything, just like he can’t for you. You both lead dangerous lives and have a lot of enemies."

"But I got sick first!" he argued. "I knew it was likely that something could be wrong and I told him to stay home. I should have—"

"What?" she interrupted, losing patience. "Tied him up? You know as well as I do that you could have argued with him for hours and he would still have gone. And could you really expect anything else of him? Would you stay back if citizens were in danger?"

"That’s different!" his voice was too loud; people were starting to look at them curiously. It took him real effort to quiet himself. "I’m less fragile. I can survive things that Tony can’t."

"It’s not different. Not in the way that matters," Pepper said quietly. "You wouldn’t have stayed back even if you weren’t a super soldier and you know it. It’s not fair of you to expect any less from Tony. As long as it took me to learn, people like the two of you will always put your own safety last, no matter how much those of us around you beg otherwise. Being a hero is too much a part of who you, and Tony, are. That’s why Tony and I couldn’t work. Accept the fact that Tony is going to get hurt and you’re not to blame and you’ll save us all some headaches." She knew Steve had no rebuttal to that and stood. "Come on, let’s get back to the others."


	5. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wakes up, Steve beats himself up some more, and everyone's going to be ok... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have WAY too much fun making vague references to the days when Thor was also Dr. Donald Blake. Anyone ever want to talk golden age comics with me, just let me know. I love that shit.

Tony groaned as he stretched in bed. When had he gone to bed last night? Did he fall asleep in the lab again? He hoped Steve had a pot of coffee for him, because he was going to need it. He reached for Steve, not yet opening his eyes, and Steve caught his hand, warm and strong; always there. "Steve," Tony murmured with a smile on his face.

"Tony," Steve said softly. "How are you feeling?"

Tony’s face scrunched up in confusion. Steve only asked that after something bad happened, or Tony had a hangover, but he’d been clean for awhile. Tony sifted through his somewhat foggy mind, trying to remember what happened before he fell asleep. He and Steve were on a date, Tony was sober. They had great baklava, had made love, then… It all came flooding back. "Oh shit," Tony breathed. He didn’t want to open his eyes now, he’d have to face Steve’s wrath.

Steve panicked, bringing one hand to Tony’s forehead, the other gripping Tony’s harder. "What’s wrong? Does something hurt? Tony, are you here with us?"

Tony’s eyes fluttered open at Steve’s panic, he caught Steve’s wrist, noticing the tubes in his hand. "Steve," he rasped. "Steve, honey, I’m fine. I just, suddenly remembered what happened is all." He went to sit up then hissed as it sent a sharp pain though his clavicle, leaving behind a dull ache. Letting his head fall back down he closed his eyes again. He was so tired. "Is everyone else alright?" Ah, there his voice was coming back a little stronger.

"Yes, everyone’s right here, Tony. Do you want me to sit your bed up?"

Tony hated being too broken to do simple things like sit up on his own. He knew he was the weakest and most fragile on the team. He didn’t need a reminder of that, especially with all of them watching. He closed his eyes and nodded so he wouldn’t have to see the pity as the bed slowly brought him to a more upright position.

He opened his eyes and yup, there was that pity in their eyes; that worry and exhaustion and relief all at his expense. It only made him feel all the more guilty. He never wanted to make his team feel that way, or Pep and Rhodey, and especially Steve. He didn’t deserve this kind of love from all of them. They were all stronger and better than he’d ever be.

Bruce stood and gave Tony a reassuring smile. "I’ll go get Dr. Stein."

"So, uh, hey guys," Tony said, voice still weak. "No worries, you all still have your mechanic to give you cool gadgets and shit."

"Hell yeah we better! I have more use for you yet, shell-head," Clint said, thankfully making the conversation a little less awkward.

"Not to mention that I’m not finished teaching you Krav Maga," Natasha added, the teasing evident in her tone.

"How are we feeling, Mr. Stark?" Dr. Stein asked as she walked in, Bruce tailing behind her.

"Tired," Tony answered, watching her as she messed with monitors and IV drips.

"Any pain?" she asked.

"Yeah, and by the locations I’d guess broken left clavicle and some broken ribs?" At her nod he asked, "So other than the bones, what’s the damage?" He silently ticked through the possibilities in his head: irreparably damaged cardiac tissue, hypoxic brain damage, mitral regurgitation, atrial fibrillation…

"Well," she started, "you suffered a heart attack, secondary to Mad Honey Disease. Due to the arc reactor in the way, we’re not able to get completely accurate test results, but from what we can tell, the cardiac muscle death is minimal, and we expect full recovery. We won’t be able to know if there are any extraneous complications without observing you for a couple weeks, but all in all you were very lucky due to the immediate medical attention. You were only in cardiac arrest for 30 seconds before CPR was already begun."

The dizzying relief at the lack of brain damage overshadowed the other information before Tony could truly analyze all of it. When he realized what all the doctor had said, his internal information sources came up short. "What the fuck is Mad Honey Disease? Ow!" Steve whapped the side of his head.

"Watch your language, Tony."

Dr. Stein laughed, obviously not offended. "It is rather made up sounding, isn’t it? It’s a poisoning from the toxins in honey made by bees that have pollinated rhododendrons. It very rarely is severe enough to cause myocardial infarction, and I only figured it out when Steve here mentioned the baklava and his own brief illness."

Tony stared at her, letting the weirdness of that diagnosis settle in. "Toxic honey?"

"Toxic honey."

"Huh. So what’s the plan? When can I go?" He hated hospitals almost as much as caves.

"Well we’re gonna keep you one more night for observation." Tony grimaced. "Then you can go home, provided that you promise to follow our care plan to a tee and come in for a follow up in a week."

"Yes, yes, of course. I always follow doctors’ orders," Tony waved her off, already switching mindsets to design new components for the suit to deal with future possibilities. Maybe a toxin scanner? Yeah, it could check his blood toxicity like what he used when he was dealing with the whole palladium poisoning thing…

"I am deadly serious," Dr. Stein interrupted his schemes. "I take my patients’ follow up care very seriously, and I will spy on you if I must."

"I will gladly record and communicate Sir’s activities to you, Dr. Stein." Tony startled at JARVIS’ voice coming out of the Stark Tablet to his left. His heart rate picked up accordingly, and immediately started calming back down as Tony remembered programming that tablet for Steve as a precautionary protocol.

"Why thank you, JARVIS. I knew I could trust you." She turned and glared at Tony, "You need to stay relaxed. Your heart shouldn’t be dealing with stress right now."

"But, but," Tony stammered, already learning to fear this woman. "I didn’t _mean_ to startle! I didn’t even know JARVIS was here. And wait, how the hell do you know JARVIS?" Was the whole world scheming against him? How many people knew JARVIS, the traitor.

" JARVIS began emailing me last night, after Agent Coulson here apparently gave him my information. We’ve discussed your habits and behaviors extensively, so I already know you’re lying about obeying doctors, Mr. Stark."

Tony stared at her in awe. This woman was a new breed of doctor he hadn’t dealt with before. Not even at SHIELD medical. He threw his hands up in a surrender. "I give up! My AI is plotting behind my back. I apparently have no choice but to bow at your every whim, Dr. Stein."

She left the room, cackling evilly, Tony swore that was an evil laugh. Agent stepped forward with a file pulled out of nowhere as far as Tony can tell. He leafed through pages as he sat at a table at the foot of the bed. "This is what I have so far in the incident report, Stark. What I need to know from you is everything you know about Abram and whether you believe this was a deliberate poisoning or a crazy random happenstance," he deadpanned.

Steve chuckled quietly, the specific laugh when he gets a reference. And that was just not fair. When did someone show Steve "Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog" and why was Tony not invited? That would have been a great time. Tony knew every word to those songs.

"Abram’s great! I’ve been eating his food every week for over a year. We’ve hung out! There’s no way this was a poisoning, he wouldn’t do that," Tony sounded mostly sure, even to himself. Why would he have done something like that?

"We can’t rule out the possibility without investigation, Stark. I don’t care if it’s your nanny who kissed your boo-boos when you were little or a random stranger on the street. What do you know about Abram?" And that right there was Agent’s "Do-what-I-say-or-I’ll-tase-you" voice; Tony doesn’t argue with that voice. But he wouldn’t tase Tony right after a heart attack, would he? Calculated risk: not worth it.

"He’s from Afghanistan…" Tony said slowly, trying to think about what he actually knew. "He came over here between a year and a half and two years ago to get away from the danger. He has a young daughter and a teenage son… He owns the deli and his wife works there sometimes… That’s all I actually know."

Tony had felt like he knew him better than that. They talked all the time, ever since that day that Tony had stumbled in wasted, embarrassing himself. Abram had let him sit there with coffee and desserts for hours, rambling in slurred speech about this perfect guy who would never love him. He didn’t even know the children’s names, nor had he actually met them.

Coulson had written and nodded as Tony spoke. Now he was underlining things from a different page and making "hmm" noises. Everyone watched silently, fidgeting, except for Clint and Natasha of course. They don’t fidget. "Right, so Barton and Romanov will go undercover to find out what they can from Abram," he turned to them. "You know the drill."

Natasha and Clint both gave one nod and walked out, presumably to prepare or something, Tony doesn’t know how these spy things work.

It was amazing how Coulson’s entire demeanor and tone changed immediately as soon as official business was put away. He stood and gave Tony’s leg a reassuring squeeze. "Tony, I’m glad you’re alright," he said with a small smile before walking towards the door. "Fury will want an update, stay safe kids." He gave a wave behind his back as he left carrying a briefcase.

Now where had the briefcase come from? Tony surveyed the room. It didn’t have anywhere where Agent could be hiding these things. He quickly double underlined the "SHIELD agents are creepy and magical" item on his mental list of "Knowledge I’ve Learned as an Avenger."

Tony suddenly felt how dry his throat was. "Hey, can I get some water?" he asked, not meeting anyone’s eyes. He’d at least pretend he had some dignity. Pepper held out a glass of water she had already filled while Dr. Stein was talking to Tony. Pep always thought of everything. Tony drained it with a satisfied sigh.

"So I really like your doctor," Rhodey laughed, leaning back in the armchair to Tony’s left. "Think she’s single?"

"You just like her because she tells me what to do!" Tony exclaimed. "That way you get a break from being such an overbearing mother. As soon as she loses that power you’ll have to deal with all my shit again and get bored of her." That earned a laugh from everyone.

"I am not overbearing, Tony. You just think if someone tells you that you should sleep at least once a week that they’re overbearing."

"That’s not true!" Tony mocked offense.

"Yes it is," Pepper, Steve and Bruce said in unison, and good grief, was this conversation choreographed? Thor just watched the banter, amusement plain on his face. Tony yawned, trying to stifle it with his hand. Maybe they wouldn’t notice. He didn’t want to sleep yet. He needed to explain himself to Steve before the anger stewed. The last thing he wanted was Steve to sit here all night, mulling over exactly how angry he was at Tony.

"You should get some more rest," Bruce said. Damn, they noticed.

"I’ve got to go assure the board that you’re fine before they start a power struggle," Pepper said. She kissed Tony on the forehead.

"Thanks, Pep. Don’t know what I’d do without you," Tony said.

"Probably go broke." With that, she walked away, hips swinging, heels clicking. She was probably right, as crazy as it sounds. Tony would somehow go from billionaire to flat broke in a manner of months without Pepper, he was sure of it.

Steve’s phone buzzed in his lap.

**Remember what I told you.** – Ms. Potts

Steve closed the message, not wanting to deal with that train of thought until Tony was asleep again.

"Want to go watch more ‘House,’ Thor?" Bruce asked.

Thor looked like Scooby-Doo being offered a Scooby Snack. "The show all about Midgardian medicine and the crippled doctor? Yes!" he boomed. "For some reason I feel as though I could be like him in another life."

"You guys have been watching House together?" Tony asked. "I didn’t peg you as a drama fan, Brucy. You seem more like that comedy fan."

Bruce took his glasses off to clean them, a nervous tic of his. "Well I enjoy unrealistic drama from time to time, makes my life seem less ridiculous by comparison."

Tony laughed then winced as his broken ribs felt the motion. "That’s a good point. Have fun, you two."

"Don’t let him stay up too long, Steve," Bruce directed as he walked out the door.

"I’m right here!" Tony exclaimed.

They ignored him. "No worries, I’ll make sure he sleeps, as usual," Steve replied, a fond smile on his face.

Tony thought they were gone when Thor stuck his head back in. "Your strength and perseverance is astounding for a mortal. Even as your heart gives out, you refuse to back down from a fight. I am proud to call you a brother in arms." His eyes were so serious, and how was someone supposed to respond to praise like that? He was gone before Tony would’ve had a chance anyway.

There was an awkward silence that dragged on for minutes; minutes that seemed like hours. "I’m sorry," Tony broke the silence. He was too scared to look at Steve. He didn’t think he could handle the disappointment and betrayal bound to be there.

"Tony, look at me," Steve said softly.

Tony shook his head. "I know I should’ve told you something was up, but I—"

Tony stopped in surprise as Steve turned his head gently, a hand gripping his chin. Steve kissed him deeply, probably to keep him quiet. "I’m not angry, Tony," he said, pulling away.

"But I—"

"Decided to risk your health to save other people when you were already in battle. The same thing I would have done."

"You’re not mad?" Tony was confused.

Steve kissed him again, more chaste this time. "I’m not mad," he confirmed.

Tony sighed in relief, too tired to notice the guilt laced through his lover’s voice. "I was worried," he murmured, sleep already dragging him away. "I didn’t want you to be mad."

Steve stroked his hair as Tony’s breathing slowed, exhaustion putting him under better than drugs ever do. That left Steve, all alone with his thoughts, which may not have been the best plan.

Pepper had said that he couldn’t protect Tony from everything, and she was right. But that didn’t help his guilt. Tony knew how the team deals with injuries and illness; the member takes medical leave until either they feel better or the team deems them needed too badly. That’s how it worked for everyone, they had all agreed on it after the Chitauri invasion. But Tony consistently risked it all unnecessarily. This guilt wasn’t about just this one time.

How many times had he found Tony injured in his lab because he tested things with no precautions? How many times did he have to carry Tony to bed because he had passed out after several sleepless nights? How often did Steve have to nearly force feed him because he wouldn’t step away from his work? It felt like Tony had a death wish, and Steve didn’t know what to do about it.

It’s not like Tony was suicidal, but he also didn’t seem to care either way if he lived or not. Was he truly so miserable that he didn’t feel it necessary to protect his own life? Steve thought that Tony was happier now that they were together. Was it not enough? He’d just have to work even harder to make Tony believe that he was worthy of living. What other choice did he have? He looked at Tony’s sleeping face, wishing so hard it hurt that he could make Tony love himself as much as Steve loved him. He wanted to take all those insecurities Tony kept hidden from the world away and throw them into oblivion. For the rest of the night he brainstormed plans for how to amend his obvious shortfall for Tony’s happiness.


	6. Conspiracy Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Nat go undercover, and we actually find out what's going on. Who's after the Avengers this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first muti-chapter fic on ao3, I don't know if I've mentioned that. The whole fic is already written, but doing formatting things is take AGES. So they'll be posted as I finish them, no promises on dates.

Clint and Natasha watched from a dark alley, waiting for the few late evening customers to leave before they made their move. Natasha was in a nice black gown, one side cut so that her leg showed through when she walked. Her gun strapped to her other thigh and a blade hidden in her hair, though she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Clint wore a nice suit with the compact, foldable bow and arrows that Tony had invented tucked in the back of his slacks.

The pair looked like they had been out at a nice dinner and decided to stop for dessert on the way home. The plan was to behave as if they were a little tipsy, just loose enough to be overly talkative with strangers. Natasha would play the flirt role she was so good at, and Clint would be the boyfriend too dull to notice. They had been getting a look of the shop from various points for a couple hours, finding what they could about where ingredients came from and where food was prepped. They had looked over the file, but it was fairly empty because it turns out Abram is an undocumented immigrant who had slipped through the cracks unnoticed.

The family of four stepped out, the two children arguing while the parents looked too tired to care. As soon as they were far enough down the street, Natasha and Clint strolled out of their hiding spot, headed for the deli. As they walked in, Natasha said something about "that second wine we tried at the restaurant" as Clint slyly flipped the door sign to "CLOSED" while it shut behind them.

"Good evening, what can I do for you tonight?" Abram asked, slightly distracted as he wiped down the counters. Natasha immediately recognized the Afghani accent, so at least their limited intel was accurate.

"What tastes good around here?" Clint asked, browsing the shelves of the display case.

"Yeah, what tastes good around here?" Natasha slurred slightly, leaning seductively on the counter, eyeing him up and down.

Abram blushed and looked flustered, but was unable to stop himself from looking at Natasha’s chest. "I- uh- we have lots of d-desserts," he stammered. "What are you in the mood for?"

Clint feigned obliviousness, still pondering the choices. "Well I like honey, do you have anything with honey in it?" he talked slightly too loud, part of the act.

"That depends on what you’re in the mood for," Natasha purred, starting to move around the counter.

Abram backed against the wall. "Uhm, I’m going to be closing up soon," he licked his lips absently. "I would appreciate it if you made a choice quickly."

Natasha moved closer, slowly though, so as not to push him further away. "Oh, we might be here a while." Clint looked up, a predatory look on his face.

Abram nearly jumped out of his skin. Clint could be frightening. "Why are you here? Who are you?"

Natasha pinned him against the wall with one hand. "We will be asking the questions, thank you." Abram just trembled beneath her hand.

"Where do you buy your ingredients?" Clint asked, pulling out a notepad and pen.

"M-m-multiple places," Abram stammered, "It depends on which ingredients you’re talking about."

"How about your honey?"

"My honey? From the supermarket, FDA approved and all." The defensiveness in his voice was painfully obvious.

"Are you sure about that?" Clint raised an eyebrow, the only change in his blank expression.

"I know where I buy my ingredients," Abram said petulantly, only to hiss when Natasha dug her nails into his shoulder.

"Let’s try this again," she murmured right in his ear. "Have you ever used honey obtained somewhere other than the supermarket? Maybe some unprocessed honey?"

"I- uh- maybe I’ve used other honey at some point. I can’t remember everything I do for this shop from day to day."

Natasha punched him in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. He gasped and coughed, unable to move away from her or bend over in pain. "Alright! I used some honey I got from a private seller recently. But it was just the once!"

"Did you happen to serve food made with this honey to anyone? Maybe Tony Stark?" Clint said as he walked up behind Natasha.

Abram’s face showed open shock that Tony was mentioned. "How did you know? Who are you?" he demanded.

The two ignored the question. "Why did you serve it to Tony and who sold you that honey?" Clint asked, still showing no emotion, which was almost scarier than anger in Abram’s opinion.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was just a try at changing the recipe, nothing for anyone specific." Abram pressed his lips together as if he weren’t going to say anything else.

"We know when someone’s lying, Abram. Interrogations are one of my specialties," Natasha said. "Now tell us what we want to know."

Abram shook his head. "Please, I can’t," he whispered. He was afraid of someone else, more so than Natasha. She could fix that.

She pulled a knife out from one of her sheaths and pressed it to his throat, but not drawing blood just yet. "You can and you will."

Abram swallowed, and tears gathered, ready to spill. "I didn’t—I didn’t have a choice. He threatened my family. He threatened to kill them unless I poisoned Tony with the honey. I don’t even know what kind of poison it was. But he knew where I lived and my children…" he stopped, the tears flowing freely now. He took a shuddering breath. "If I tell you, he’ll know. He’ll kill them."

Natasha and Clint traded a look, communicating several plans and consequences in only a few seconds. Clint nodded. "If you give us what we want, we’ll protect you and your family," he said gently.

Abram barked a laugh, or maybe a sob. "What can you do? You don’t know how much power he has."

"I can guarantee you we have more." Clint pulled out his SHIELD badge. "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division: We’re the ones who stopped the alien invasion; the ones who keep the world safe without their knowledge on a daily basis. If you help us, we’ve got your back."

Abram gaped at him. "Okay, I’ll help. His name is Raza, he’s—"

"We know him," Natasha interrupted. Only someone who knew her well enough like Clint could hear the distress and shock at the name. To anyone else she was cool and collected. "He should be dead though."

Abram shook his head again, "Well unfortunately, I can assure you he’s not."

As Clint sat next to Abram in the car, his hands tied behind his back, Natasha had already informed Fury of the situation and agents were en route to pick up the family. Natasha texted JARVIS, telling him that Raza was responsible for the poisoning. He agreed to immediately start searching the web and databases for any signs of the Ten Rings nearby.

* * *

"Where’s the captain?" Fury asked the table at large.

Bruce took off his glasses to clean them. "We decided it best to leave him ignorant until tomorrow. He’s in enough distress as it is."

As Bruce perched the glasses back onto his nose, he blanched slightly at Fury’s one-eyed glare. Fury glared at him for another fifteen seconds, counted meticulously for intended effect, then turned to speak to all of them. "Alright, we’ll brief the captain in the morning, but keep Stark in the dark. The doctor said no stress. Agent Romanov, report."

Natasha stood. "Raza is the commander for the terrorist organization, the Ten Rings. Current sweeps and intelligence say that Raza has been in town for a few months, recruiting some underground support for a U.S. sector to replace the group we took out in Iran recently. So far, we’ve heard nothing to suggest that the Mandarin is here, but we are on high alert. We haven’t yet located Raza’s hideout, but we did capture one of the new recruits. Hopefully we can get some information out of him."

"I was under the impression that the Mandarin had been a ruse, and Iron Man had defeated the people behind the cowardly deceit." Thor said slowly.

"The man claiming to be the Mandarin last year was a fake. An actor named Trevor Slattery was pretending to be the Mandarin for AIM and Killian," Natasha explained. "In that sense, you are correct. Unfortunately, the name ‘Mandarin’ was stolen from the leader of the Ten Rings, the real Mandarin. He is a very dangerous man, with powerful rings that we believe may be alien technology. He has a serious grudge against Tony ever since Tony foiled his plans and destroyed a large amount of his property in Afghanistan."

"So what are we going to do?" Bruce asked.

Fury stood and started pacing. "Tony’s stay at the hospital is currently a secret known only by us, Dr. Stein, and a few nurses who helped him on the way in. He—"

"And the Lady Julie!" Thor chimed in excitedly. "She is a superb caregiver!"""

Fury looked questioningly at the others. "She’s the PCA that turned Tony in his sleep," Clint supplied.

"Alright, so anyways, as I was saying," Fury said impatiently, "He should be safe for now, and Steve is with him anyways. When he leaves the hospital, he will go nowhere without a security detail until Raza is captured and we are sure the Ten Rings are not planning more assassination attempts. The caregivers he has had at the hospital will be hired for SHIELD medical so Tony can continue seeing Dr. Stein. I’ve heard she can actually control the man a little. Also so none of them will be captured for patient information on Tony."

"What if they don’t want to work for SHIELD?" Bruce asked.

"Fury likes to pretend to give them a choice, but in reality the bastard will make their lives Hell if they refuse," Coulson said drily. He caught the stapler Fury threw at him without even looking, having been through this conversation too many times before. Fury was well aware of Phil’s opinions on forced employment, but Phil wasn’t going to let a single instance slide past without reminding him.

"For all of you," Fury continued as if he hadn’t stopped, "rest up and be ready for now. As soon as we catch wind of a location for Raza or the Ten Ring's base, you’ll be notified. Natasha will help us interrogate Abram and the captive recruit." He strode out with a wave of dismissal behind him. Natasha made for the interrogation rooms while the rest of them mingled behind.

"I still can’t believe the bastard’s alive!" Clint brought his fist down hard on the table. "We blew up the building where Stane was keeping him tied up, I saw the footage!"

"Well he must have survived somehow, maybe he had help," Coulson laid a hand on Clint’s shoulder, rubbing some of the coiled tension away.

"I’m going to go get some sleep so I can be there for Tony’s discharge," Bruce sighed heavily, looking exhausted. They all were pretty tired, yet high strung because apparently there was a terrorist group after one of their own. Again.

"I will go with you," Thor replied.

After they had left, Clint let Phil rub his shoulders for another minute or so before shrugging him off. "We’re going to take care of this," Phil said softly, hoping it was the truth.

Clint nodded curtly, not saying anything. Phil came around the chair and looked into the archer’s eyes, and saw the storm of emotions Clint kept reigned in. "I’m gonna go to the shooting range, I’ll see you later," his voice was sharp, more so than he intended. He gave Phil one last look with the faith that Phil understood, that he wasn’t angry. Phil nodded and Clint practically ran, his fingers itching for his arrows.

Phil stood alone in the room, letting the day wash over him. He understood what Clint was going through, how terrified he was of losing any of the Avengers, though he’d never admit it. Clint’s real family had never really been there for him, and the first couple months at the tower, Clint closed himself off to avoid getting close to anyone. These people were the only people who have ever cared for him; watched his back; could be trusted. He knew that Clint was furious at the fact that he couldn’t help right this very instance, so he had to get some of that frustration out. He’d be alright when he came home to collapse next to Phil tonight.

Phil gathered his things and left to go talk with Dr. Stein. He knew any minute now he’d get the call from Fury, telling him that of course Phil should already be explaining the terms of SHIELD employment to the poor healthcare workers that were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Although Phil was pretty sure Fury would say right place at the right time. His phone buzzed in his pocket as he left the building. Yep, there it was. He answered it with a curt, "I’m already on it, sir."

"That’s my boy," Fury chuckled.


	7. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets to go home from the hospital, but the homecoming isn't happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chants* angst, angst, angst, ANGST
> 
> but here's where the TW about alcoholism and depression come into play. If reading other people dealing with a relapse or addiction issues is triggering, please skip this chapter. Be safe, kiddos!

Steve watched Tony stir, slowly coming to. When he opened his eyes he looked at Steve and winced. "You look like shit, Steve."

"Thanks, Tony. I’ve always wanted to hear you say that," Steve said drily.

He laughed. He was obviously feeling much more rested. "But seriously, did you sleep at all?"

"I’m fine." Wow, even Steve could hear how bad he was at lying.

"So that’s a no, then. Steve, baby, you need to sleep," Tony soothed. "I don’t care if you’re a super soldier, everyone needs rest."

Before Steve could respond, Dr. Stein came in. "Good morning, Mr. Stark. Feeling nice and awake?"

"I get to go home today, right!?" he would be bouncing with excitement if it didn’t make his ribs pang.

"On my conditions only, if you remember," she said, pulling out a packet and handing it to Steve. "So there you will see his diet restrictions, exercise routine, and number of hours he needs to sleep per day."

Tony waved his arms around at her as though hailing a cab. "Helloooo… Right here!"

She ignored him to Tony’s dismay. "If he follows these, he should be good as new in about 2 weeks and he can go back to whatever his regular routine is."

"We’ll do our best, right Tony?" Steve gave the packet over to Tony’s grabby hands.

Tony snatched the paper away, scanning it quickly. "This won’t work. It says I can’t have coffee." Tony said seriously.

"That’s correct," Dr. Stein said. "Only for a month as long as you do what you’re told."

"But coffeeeeeee," Tony whined.

"Do what you’re told, Stark," Agent said, walking in.

Dr. Stein smiled. "Thank you Agent Coulson. Still no tasing though." When did she find out that Agent likes to tase Tony? Seriously, was everyone conspiring behind Tony’s back and they all were actually best friends? This creepy doctor already knew Agent and JARVIS too well. Tony decided to give up understanding the ways of people. He should just stick to robots… and Steve. As long as Steve would stick with him, anyways.

"So, as I was saying, you follow those rules for two weeks, and no coffee for a month, then you can go back to a fairly normal life. You can still be iron man—"

"Which I would’ve done no matter what you said," Tony interrupted.

Dr. Stein sighed. "I figured as much. The exercise is great for you anyways. It is important, though, that you rest whenever you are tired and you don’t drink excessive amounts of alcohol."

"The issue is that those two rules you just gave are exactly the opposite of what Stark does on a daily basis," Agent Coulson betrayed Tony.

"It’s true, unfortunately," Steve joined the dark side. "Tony may exercise a lot, but he lives a far from healthy lifestyle."

"This is entirely unfair!" Tony whined. "I am being ganged up on! Agent eats gas station junk food like there’s no tomorrow, and Cap tries to bear the stress of the entire world on his shoulders!" He pointed at the two of them accusingly.

"The difference is, Mr. Stark, that they haven’t suffered any cardiac damage," she looked at Coulson, "although eating junk food all day could lead them to it."

"Well how am I supposed to get any work done if I have to sleep and I can’t have coffee!?"

Steve put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, firm but not painful. "We’ll take care of it, Dr. Stein."

"Good." With that, she took the already filled out discharge papers from Agent’s hands (maybe he wasn’t a complete traitor) and looked them over. "These are all in order, I will see you in your two week follow up, Mr. Stark, and I’ll see you around, Agent Coulson." She walked out the door, an excited looking Julie met her in the hallway and followed.

"Happy is waiting just out back, I’ll take you two the back way. We don’t need any paparazzi finding out about any of this," he unfolded the wheelchair in the corner. "Come on out after you’ve changed." He shut the door behind him, all business.

Steve took Tony’s clothes out of a bag and started to help him get dressed, but Tony refused. "I can dress myself, Steve. I’m not an invalid."

Steve put his hands up in surrender, "Fine, fine. I was just trying to help."

Tony pulled on his sweatpants fairly easily. But when he went to raise his arms to slip on the t-shirt, his ribs and clavicle argued and he cried out, dropping the shirt. Steve caught the shirt and pulled Tony into a gentle hug in one swift move. He gently brought Tony’s arms into the shirt and pulled it over his head, thankfully not saying ‘I told you so.’

Tony unwillingly flashed back to his mother helping him dress after he had been beaten up at school. He had tried so hard not to show any pain, because his father had yelled at him the previous time that Stark men don’t cry. She had held him afterwards while he cried silently, wishing he could be the man his father wanted.

He did not cry now, he just swallowed the pain and emotions, quashing them down for later. Instead he allowed himself to take comfort in Steve’s arms, nuzzling into those rock hard pecs. He was too embarrassed already to put up a fight when Steve brought up the wheelchair.

"Hey boss," Happy said with false cheer when Steve opened the car door. Happy of course brought one of the vans because he thinks of everything. Tony was pretty sure only he could hear the worry and relief laced through Happy’s voice.

"Happy! You’re one of my favorites, you know that right?" Tony asked. "So we should make a stop on the way home, you know what I mean?" He attempted to hide his grimace of pain as Steve lifted him into the car like he was a child. His legs weren’t broken for Pete’s sake. Judging by Steve’s brow furrowing, he wasn’t very successful.

"Sure thing, boss. The usual?"

"Of course." Happy had picked Tony up from the hospital or SHIELD medical too many times to not know about Tony’s illogical need for a greasy cheeseburger after an injury. Unfortunately, Captain stick-up-his-butt always had to ruin the fun.

"No way," he said in his commander voice as they pulled up to the drive through. "Tony, you know you have to eat healthier."

Tony put on his best puppy dog face, hoping Steve could find some understanding in the steel resolve. "Steeeeeeve," he whined. "I neeeeeeeed it. Cheeseburgers calm me, and I’m not supposed to stress."

"Nice try, Tony. Happy, he’s not allowed to eat that stuff."

Happy was too loyal to Tony to just listen to Cap, and Tony gave him props for that, it takes a brave man to refuse Steve Rogers’ orders. "Boss?" he looked questioningly at Tony through the rear view mirror, studiously avoiding Steve’s gaze.

Tony sighed heavily, Steve was right, plus he didn’t need more disappointment from Steve right now. "He’s right, Happy. Let’s just go home, you can have the rest of the day off."

"Whatever you say, boss." There was that false cheer again.

As they pulled in front of the tower, Tony threw open the door and got out on his own before Steve could try and bring the wheelchair. He stalked off, ignoring Steve’s protests, wishing to just escape people for awhile. He was sick of their concern. Unfortunately, that backfired when they both had to wait for the elevator.

"Tony, are you upset with me? I’m just trying to help."

Only Steve could so easily make Tony feel guilty. Usually Tony only felt guilty for the mass murder from his days as a weapons dealer type thing. "No, Steve, I just want to be alone for a bit," he stared at his feet so he wouldn’t have to see hurt Steve. Hurt Steve was just painful to look at. "JARVIS, take me to the lab after we drop Steve off." Thankfully, there was no comment from Steve.

"JARVIS, dim the lights," Tony said as he collapsed into a chair, pulling up schematics for some of the new improvements to Clint’s bows. "DUM-E, U, one of you grab me the wrench over there and one of you make me a shake, no toxic stuff this time, please."

He was hoping to bury himself in his work until he passed out. The last thing he wanted to do right now was think about the last few days. He whipped through the newest bow design, trudged through some new weapons for Natasha, and started to work on the atomic structure for rip-proof shorts for Bruce when it all came crashing down. He pushed back from the table, running his hands through his hair as the chair clattered to the ground. His throat ached for the burn of vodka, but he feared JARVIS would betray him.

Steve had compared himself to Tony, as if that weren’t the most laughable concept Tony had ever heard. Steve’s voice still rang through his head, _‘Decided to risk your health to save other people when you were already in battle. The same thing I would have done.’_ Steve only understood half of it, the better half. Of course Steve would risk his health to save others, but would he risk himself out of cowardice?

" JARVIS, start protocol 615994, no communication about my actions unless my vitals are emergent."

"As you wish, Sir, but I must advise—"

"Mute."

He walked over to the kitchen and poured a glass of whiskey. He downed it, poured another, and grabbed a six pack out of the fridge. Unwanted, the events of the MODOK battle replayed in his head. He slid down the wall, taking a gulp of the second glass.

_He flew over head, after MODOK. He saw the little girl, being dragged away by her mother, trying to get into the house. The look of terror on her face was too similar to the girl from Gulmira._

Tony heard her screams in his nightmares far too often, as her father was being threatened at gunpoint. The whole town was full of refugees, some who had lost limbs and family because of _his_ weapons. The weapons he had created with no second thought; had made his riches off of. The weapons he had started creating and designing when he was only 15. He had never lost a wink of sleep over his death machines until Afghanistan. How many people had died because of his designs? No matter how many people he saved, he could never make up for that.

_He felt the familiar pang of guilt when he saw the mom’s tears. MODOK wasn’t near at this point, but she was probably already in shock. It didn’t matter how many times super villains rampaged through New York, near death experiences stick with people. He hated that guilt, the pain he felt for them and all his past wrongs, and he didn’t want to face them anymore._

When the symptoms had started, and he knew something was wrong, he took the opportunity as usual. Maybe, just maybe, if he didn’t make it this time, he’d escape from himself. His death to save others would be worth so much more than his life had ever been. He would never commit suicide right out; then he’d never atone for his sins. But if he accidentally died in the process of atonement? Well at least he would have tried, then.

The worry the others always had for him was more painful than disappointment. He didn’t deserve their worry, their friendship, or their respect. He felt much more at home when the public was hurling insults at him, giving him his proper title of monster. A monster was all he saw when he looked in the mirror.

He could tell already how his body wasn’t taking the alcohol as well as usual. He was only 3 beers in and he already felt drunk. It wasn’t enough though; his thoughts still had too much clarity for comfort. Maybe if he died here of alcohol poisoning, his death would be looked at with the shame and disappointment he had earned. He’d lose Steve’s respect, and Pepper and Rhodey’s too, which would really suck. Not that JARVIS would let him drink himself to death, override codes or not. He had a knack of finding loopholes in Tony’s commands when Tony was doing something _really_ stupid.

He had to sleep down here. Steve would be so pissed if he saw Tony drunk right now. He wouldn’t understand. To be honest, who would? He grabbed the whole bottle of whiskey and took a couple mouthfuls. The resulting head spinning was worth it; maybe he’d pass out with no nightmares. It had been so long since he’d drank, since Steve had helped him get clean. He tried so hard to make Steve proud, but he always ended up failing. Why does he even try? Tony has been disappointing the ones he loves for as long as he can remember, from parents to the few friends he has.

But Steve… Steve had a special way of making Tony feel like he could be good, like he was someone to be proud of. Tony still always managed to fuck it up. DUM-E rolled up and grabbed the whiskey bottle in his hand. He tried to tug it away from Tony.

"DUM-E! What are you doing, stop it." Just as he said it, Butterfingers rolled away carrying the rest of the beer. "JARVIS, what are they doing?" Tony demanded. No response. "Unmute. JARVIS?"

"I’m sorry sir, but I told them to take it away from you. If you drank any more I would have to notify Captain Rogers."

"Damnit JARVIS! Is it really that bad? You can’t let me wallow for one lousy night?"

"Your health—"

"I know, I know," Tony mumbled. He could hear the slur slipping into his voice. "Never mind, just don’t tell Steve. Or anyone else, got it?"

"Of course, Sir."

Tony let out a long breath and dropped his face to his hands. He couldn’t let Steve see him like this, but if he stayed down here all night, Steve would figure it out anyway and come down. "JARVIS, what is Steve doing?"

"Captain Rogers is currently in the gym on your floor. Would you like me to notify him that you are inquiring?"

"No! Does it look like he’s going to tire anytime soon?" Maybe he could sneak into bed when Steve was asleep.

"Sir, I believe Captain Rogers means to stay up until you return."

"Fuck. JARVIS, what am I going to do? Steve can’t see me like this. Why do I always do what I’m not supposed to?" He closed his eyes and rested his head back on the wall.

"Because you do not have self-preservation and your coping mechanisms are flawed."

Tony flinched. "I didn’t actually need you to answer, it was rhetorical. If I sneak upstairs, do you think I can get to our room without Steve noticing?"

"Is that also a rhetorical question, Sir?" JARVIS really shouldn’t know how to be sarcastic, that just wasn’t fair.

"JARVIS, seriously."

"I believe I could guide you along a path where Captain Rogers would not see you, yes. But he will still be able to smell alcohol on you unless you shower, Sir."

"Shower, shower," he scrubbed his hands over his face, "Yeah, I can do that." He moved to stand but fell back as the room spun. "Shit, no I can’t."

"Would you like me to request assistance from someone, Sir?" JARVIS sounded smug, like he wanted Tony caught, the traitor.

Tony ran through the other avengers in his head, deciding which one was least likely to rat him out. Bruce was too much of a goody two-shoe. Coulson would probably go directly to Steve if not Dr. Stein and Fury. Thor wasn’t in the tower right now, and Tony was fairly sure Thor didn’t know what sneaking was. Natasha would probably just beat him up for being an idiot. That left Clint. "Is Clint awake?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Is Coulson with him?" It would be too suspicious if Coulson heard JARVIS asking Clint to go to the lab.

"Agent Coulson has not returned to the tower, Sir."

"Wait, what? What time is it?" He should be home by now, unless Fury was holding him prisoner again under the guise of paperwork. Tony was pretty sure Fury did it just to prove his power.

"Approximately 2:00 AM."

Huh, weird. "Yeah, get Clint. Just… tell him this is on a need to know basis."

"Of course, sir," JARVIS dutifully replied.

* * *

"JARVIS, what is Tony doing?" Steve asked. He hung up another punching bag.

"He is still in the lab, Captain. Would you like me to let him know that you are inquiring?"

"No, no, thanks JARVIS. Just let me know if he’s hurt, alright?"

"Of course, Captain."

He liked to believe that Tony wouldn’t do anything stupid, but he did have a track record. Steve just hoped Tony would turn to him before turning to the bottle. Then again, apparently Steve was not a good enough lover to begin with, or Tony would be happier and wouldn’t want to be alone right now. Steve went at the bag again, focusing on the pounding sound of his fists rather than his shortcomings with Tony.

When Clint cleared his throat behind Steve, he actually jumped. Normally only Natasha could startle Steve. He had been in a trance-like state, thinking of nothing but the force of each blow. "Sorry, Cap, didn’t mean to startle you. You alright?" Clint asked.

"No, it’s fine. Yeah, I’m alright, just working out the stress of the last few days, y’know?" Steve managed to keep the tension from his voice, but he sounded weary and worn.

Clint nodded, taking note of the shadows under Steve’s eyes. "Where’s Tony?" he decided not to ask when the last time Steve slept was. As it is, he only just woke up from a couple hour nap; a nap that had only occurred because he passed out after hours at the shooting range.

"Down in the lab, he wanted to be alone."

If that didn’t sound like a hurt child, Clint isn’t the greatest marksman in the world (and he most certainly is). "Well, don’t wear yourself too thin, Cap. You read the meeting notes, we have to be ready and alert for whenever we find the Mandarin. Did you tell Tony yet?"

"No," Steve sighed. "I haven’t found the right moment to spring it on him. How do you tell someone that the terrorist in charge of the people who tortured him and left him with PTSD is still alive and after him?"

"There isn’t an easy way, but he’s going to find out sooner or later, and we’d all rather it be from you," Clint said softly. "At least then you’re there to comfort him if he reacts badly or has a flashback. He does best with you around." He placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve knew Clint understood. He thanked God he had finally found a group of people who understood each other and him better than the rest of the world possibly could. If anyone could understand Tony, it was Clint. They had fairly similar experiences as far as relationships and betrayals from what Steve could tell. "I’ll tell him tomorrow. Thanks for checking up on me, Clint." He turned back and started at the bag again.

Clint knew a dismissal, so he turned to go. He didn’t like that Tony was alone right now, but JARVIS wouldn’t let him do anything too stupid, he could trust in that fact.

He took a shower and settled into bed to wait for Phil. Phil should’ve gotten home before him, he was probably stuck doing all the paperwork HR should’ve been doing for Dr. Stein and Julie’s new files. Fury liked to torture him that way. Only Phil would put up with Fury’s shit to the extent that he does.

He had just cracked open a good book when JARVIS spoke. "Sir would like you to discreetly come to the lab. He said his request is on a need to know basis."

Clint closed his book and sighed. "Has he done something stupid, JARVIS?"

"I do not approve of his chosen course of action, yes."

"Alright, I’m on it. Thanks, JARVIS." He jumped up and threw on some sweatpants. If Tony was asking for him and not Steve, this couldn’t be good. JARVIS opened the door to the lab and Clint stepped in. It was fairly dark, as only half the lights were on, and they were only at half power. He didn’t see Tony so he walked further in and looked around. He saw the slumped figure against the wall and panic set in immediately. He quashed it when he realized JARVIS would have been more urgent if Tony were passed out or having heart problems.

He must be drunk then. Clint walked towards Tony, this time making sure his feet scuffed a little so Tony would hear him. Tony lifted his head and cracked his eyes open. "Hey," he croaked.

"Tony," Clint breathed. He looked absolutely wrecked. "What did you do?" He sat down next to him, getting a good whiff of the alcohol breath.

Tony grimaced. "Sorry, I know I’m shit and I shouldn’t have," his speech was slurred. That was worrisome. Tony was usually still very in control of his speech and posture when he was drunk, it came from decades of practice. "Please don’t tell Steve." Clint heard the begging note to that and realized that Tony’s voice had wavered like he might cry.

"Tony, it’s alright, I’m here. I won’t tell Steve, at least not tonight," he tried his best to sound soothing.

Tony slumped further in obvious relief. "I always fail Steve," he mumbled, and Clint’s heart broke. After all this time together, Tony still felt inadequate for Steve. It didn’t matter to him that he was Steve’s world and that Steve would love him no matter what. Tony still hated himself. Clint could understand; he still felt he didn’t deserve Phil, and at least Phil wasn’t an American icon.

"Alright, let’s get you up." He scooped Tony up like a child. He was so light, probably because he almost never ate. It said a lot about Tony’s mental state that he didn’t complain about being treated like a baby. He just buried his face into Clint’s stomach, murmuring apologies.

JARVIS lit a path past the main elevator to a back one, and through the hallway on the opposite side of the floor from the gym to Tony and Steve’s room. When they got into the room, Clint sat Tony on the bed and stripped him. Tony just stared ahead unseeing, having completely turned in on himself. Clint hoped he wasn’t just in their beating himself up for more things that almost certainly weren’t his fault. Unfortunately, Clint knew him; he probably was.

Luckily, Tony was able to stand in the shower while Clint scrubbed him, and held himself steady against the wall. He followed Clint’s commands silently, looking more and more exhausted by the second. When Clint finally got him into bed, he curled up into a tight ball and groaned.

"Are you going to be okay for now Tony?" Clint asked softly, in case he was already asleep./p>

"Aren’t I always?" Tony said with a wry smile. "Thanks, Clint."

Clint watched until his breathing evened out. "Oh how I wish that were true, Tony," he whispered before turning away. When the door was shut behind him, he called out softly. "Should I go get Steve, JARVIS?"

"I will inform Captain Rogers that Sir has gone to bed. Thank you, Agent Barton." JARVIS sounded genuinely grateful. Tony was surrounded by people, and AIs, that cared so much. If only he could convince himself that he deserved it. 

Clint saw Phil’s shoes from down the hall, neatly placed just inside the doorway. When he walked in, Phil looked up from the same book Clint had left sitting on the bed. "JARVIS informed me that you were with Tony," he said. "Everything alright?"

Clint sighed as he slipped into bed. "Depends on your definition of alright, but he’s physically fine."

Phil raised an eyebrow, "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Not tonight," Clint said tiredly. Now that Phil was home he could finally get some real sleep. He never slept well without Phil.

Phil looped an arm around Clint and turned off the lamp with his other hand. He knew Clint would tell him tomorrow. As long as Tony was physically okay, they could deal with his ever-lacking emotional health after some sleep. They all needed rest.

Clint nestled into Phil’s side with a contented purr. JARVIS and Steve would keep Tony safe for the rest of the night.

"Captain Rogers, I would like to inform you that Sir is in bed, if you’d like to join him," JARVIS interrupted Steve’s punches.

Steve looked up at the sound of JARVIS’ voice. "Oh, really?" he grabbed a towel and wiped away the sweat and downed some water. "When did that happen?"

"Approximately 10 minutes ago."

Steve noticed the lack of details and the time delay between Tony going to bed and JARVIS’ notification, but he wasn’t about to question JARVIS. He was probably just doing what Tony wanted, because Tony obviously didn’t want to see or talk to Steve. He tried not to let that sting, but it did.

When he came into the room, Tony was out cold. Steve hoped he hadn’t been working himself too hard in the lab, but he was grateful that Tony was willingly getting some sleep. He was freshly showered, which was odd for Tony. Tony tended to take showers in the morning, or when Pepper made him. Steve carefully curled around him, not wanting to wake him. Tony just adjusted himself into the curve of Steve’s body, attracted by the warmth even in his sleep.

Unfortunately, Steve was not ready to sleep. He was still too wound up to relax. Why didn’t Tony ever feel comfortable enough to talk to Steve when he was obviously upset? Steve tried so hard to be there for Tony without being pushy. He just wanted Tony to stop shouldering all of his pain and locking it away behind false smiles and sarcasm. Maybe if he got some of it off his chest and talked to someone, it wouldn’t have been so hard to quit drinking. He had definitely learned that approach from his father.

_Which was also my fault,_ Steve thought. _If I hadn’t disappeared, Howard wouldn’t have wasted all the time he should have spent loving Tony on searching for me. Tony needed a father, but all he got was a cold, distant man and a woman who had given up._

Tony may have his flaws and vices, but most of them were the fault of the people around him who should have taught him better. Of course he bore some responsibility, but he is a genuinely good man. Tony had had to learn how to deal with the hardships of life all by himself at too young an age, save for his butler Jarvis. No wonder he named his AI after Jarvis. That was the closest he got to a parental figure, and that was so little because Jarvis had too many other duties to attend to. Tony’s unhappiness with life, his alcoholism, his awful childhood; the causes always eventually could be traced back to Steve. Steve couldn’t blame him for being so harsh when they first met; not after he realized all of that.

Steve had lost everything important to him when his plane went down. Tony had had everything valuable (monetary-wise) all along, but nothing that he needed emotionally. Trust, love, stability, and security were things a child should receive from their parents, and Tony didn’t get them because of Steve. Tony’s not broken, but he believes he is, and that’s what matters. _I’m failing him every day that I don’t convince him of his worth,_ Steve thought, and on that note, Steve fell into an uneasy sleep.


	8. Double Standards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finds out who's after him. The gang deal with Tony's relapse. Let's hope everyone can remain calm? Also the chapter with a little bit of Phlint feels because I love them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's sort of the calm before the storm. We're about to get into the real action of the fic soon, and I can't wait to hear people's thoughts on the upcoming chapters! Writing a large team fighting together is a lot of fun but I don't know if everything actually makes sense. Here's to a calm chapter!
> 
> Also, if you guys like my writing, should I write some Phlint? let me know.

Phil sat up quietly, careful not to wake his sleeping lover. Hopefully Steve and Tony weren’t up yet, because he wanted to talk to JARVIS beforehand and see what kind of damage control could be done. He silently moved to the bathroom to shower before tackling the newest Tony-problem. As he stood straight again from undressing, there was Clint in the mirror reflection. Phil smiled wryly at him and shrugged.

"Yeah, I thought so," Clint chuckled, his voice low and gravelly from sleep. "You still seem to think you can sneak out of bed, but I always know."

"Always?" Phil asked, carefully folding his pajamas. "What about—"

"Yes, even in Portland," Clint laughed, throwing his clothes to the ground and following Phil into the shower. "Although I’ll admit that I almost thought it was a dream that time."

"That’s because you lost a lot of blood and were barely conscious." The corners of Phil’s lips twitched and Clint quickly enveloped his mouth, rough and needy. Phil groaned and turned on the water with a hand behind them, leaning into the contact. They stood there and kissed for a moment before Phil broke it off. "Last night, go."

Clint sighed. He started lathering up a soapy washcloth and washing Phil’s back while Phil shampooed Clint’s hair. "Tony got drunk. I don’t know why for sure, but I have a pretty good idea based on his ramblings. He asked me to help him sneak to bed and shower so Cap wouldn’t know. As far as I know, it worked, but there’s going to be one helluva hangover, and Steve’s going to figure it out. Phil," Clint sounded worried, and he caught Phil’s eyes and held them there. "What should we do? This could get ugly."

Phil let out a small puff of air. He said nothing while they switched jobs, Clint shampooing his hair and Phil rubbing small circles into Clint’s back while he washed. It wasn’t until they stepped out of the shower and toweled off that he broke the silence. "Here’s what we’re going to do," Phil had switched into business mode. This matter could affect the team. "We will wake up Steve without waking Tony, and explain what we know, make sure he’s as calm as he can be about the situation before the three of us have a sit down with Tony. If Steve is angry, Tony can’t explain himself properly when he’s hungover; he’ll just switch to default and snark, making matters worse."

Clint nodded, his jaw clenched. "Yeah, hopefully we can avoid nuclear war here."

Phil started the coffee pots while Clint went to wake Steve. He was very tense because if this didn’t work, they had no backup plan. Clint opened the door and looked at his sleeping friends. Steve was curled around Tony like a protective covering, which would only make this more difficult. Waking Steve is always tricky because if he’s having a war dream, Clint usually gets hurt then Steve feels awful. As long as he didn’t touch Steve, he was safe, but that meant he had to talk without waking Tony. He got as close to Steve’s ear as he could without touching anyone.

"Steve," Clint whispered, "it’s Clint." His voice was barely audible even within the couple of inches they were apart. He was counting on Steve’s super soldier hearing. Steve stirred, luckily not waking Tony. "It’s not an emergency, but I need you to come and talk to Phil and me without waking Tony."

Steve’s eyes snapped open and he looked a little out of it for a moment. Then he turned to look at Clint, taking in Clint’s expression. He nodded and carefully climbed out of bed, following Clint to the kitchen. When Steve sat down, Phil set down coffee for each of them.

Steve’s eyes shifted between the two of them. "What did Tony do?" he asked quietly, voice monotone.

"To start Captain," Phil said, "we need you to remain calm. Tony has been through a trauma and—"

"I know who he is, Coulson," Steve swiftly cut him off. "Tony makes poor choices because he doesn’t know how to cope and never asks for help. What I need to know is how bad it is this time. What did he do?"

Clint didn’t know what to think of this reaction. Steve sounded so emotionless, but he could see something simmering underneath. It wasn’t anger, at least not at Tony, and there was worry mixed in there. But the fact that he wasn’t the open book he normally was terrified Clint. Steve was hiding something from them. Clint filed that information away for later.

"He had JARVIS call me down to the lab last night," Clint started, voice careful and eyes watching for minute facial expressions in Steve before he could mask them. "When I asked if I should get anyone else, I was told it was on a need to know basis." There it was, a flash of guilt and pain across Steve’s face, gone in a split second. Clint was trained to see micro-expressions like that, or he probably wouldn’t have caught it. "I got to the lab and it was dimly lit, so I had to look around for Tony. I saw him slumped on the ground against the far wall," the slightest gasp from Steve made Clint pause, Steve was no expert at hiding emotions like a SHIELD agent. "At first I panicked, but then I realized that JARVIS would have been more urgent if Tony were in immediate danger, so I tread carefully. When I called out to Tony he looked up at me, so he was conscious. When he spoke I knew he had been drinking."

"No," Steve breathed. He put his face in his hands and let out a long sigh. He was still for a long moment before he looked up again, all traces of feeling gone. "So he relapsed."

"We have to go about this carefully," Phil held Steve’s eyes firmly. "We don’t want to make matters worse."

"Right," Steve said sharply. He reigned the anger in quickly, this wasn’t Coulson’s fault, it was his own. "Why? Clint, did he say anything that indicated why he was drinking?" Steve’s eyes were pleading.

"Uhm, Steve, I don’t know if that’s my place to tell you." He held his hands up in front of him submissively. "Tony told me things I don’t think he would have normally in a drunken state, and under the distinct promise that I wouldn’t tell you. I can’t break that."

"Clint—"

"No, please don’t ask me to Steve," Clint begged, and that made Steve feel bad. Clint looked pained. This was all just so frustrating. Why couldn’t Tony trust his own lover?

"Ask you to what, Clint?" Tony asked sharply from the doorway. They all turned sharply, obviously caught off guard. Tony shuffled forward and squinted at the light. "JARVIS, dim the fucking lights," he snapped as he sat down at the opposite side of the bar from the rest of them. He snatched the second pot of coffee and began drinking straight from the pot. The others just stared at him. Then he seemed to pause and remember something, so he lowered the pot from his mouth. "Right," he groaned, "no coffee." He slid it across the bar and Phil stopped it from going over the edge. He dropped his face into his hands and grumbled into them, "So I’ll take it by your conspiring postures that Clint tattled on me."

Clint wanted to explain. "I—" he started, but Tony wasn’t allowing it.

"You fucking promised, Clint. You said you wouldn’t tell." He glared at Clint with bloodshot eyes.

"Tony, I promised that I wouldn’t tell last night, not that I wouldn’t tell at all," Clint said softly, not able to meet Tony’s eyes. "I’m worried about you."

That was apparently the worst thing to say because Tony jumped up and his chair clattered to the floor. "Right, of course," he sounded a little hysteric. "Everyone is always so worried about me, well stop!" he yelled. "I’ve taken care of myself my whole life and I can take care of myself now. I don’t need any of you, I’m not a fucking child." He stormed off, holding his head in his hands.

Phil sighed. "Well that didn’t quite go as planned." Just then Natasha and Bruce walked in.

"It’s a bit early for shouting matches, guys," Bruce yawned. Phil noticed that as he cleaned his glasses he was very carefully meeting no one’s eyes. He was understandably wary about whatever this situation was that he had walked into. "Who upset Tony? He’s supposed to relax."

Natasha started making herself some eggs, a quick glance at the three men telling her all that she needed, along with what she gathered from Tony’s bad mood this morning. Tony relapsed last night, Steve blames himself, Clint was there, and Phil’s trying to clean up the mess. She said nothing, deciding to listen instead.

Steve took a calming breath, obviously working hard to keep himself in check right now. "Bruce, could you try and talk to him? He obviously doesn’t want to be around me," and try as he may to hide it, there was that hurt in his voice again. "You’re his best friend, and I don’t want him to be alone."

Bruce looked at each of them quickly, not willing to look Steve in the eyes, he hated those puppy dog eyes. Steve disagreed but everyone else knew he had puppy dog eyes. "JARVIS, tell me what happened, and give me an update on any relevant vital signs over the last 18 hours," Bruce commanded, pulling a pen from his pocket and a napkin off the counter.

"Sir, despite my best intentions I might add, decided to consume alcohol last night, and he used his override codes so that I could not inform others of his doings unless he was in urgent danger. When he realized how drunk he had gotten and did not want the Captain to see and be disappointed, he requested that I ask Clint to help him sneak to bed. The alcohol worked on his system more quickly than usual, and his heart rate dropped, but not to a lethal level. He was unable to walk on his own and his blood pressure was low. Now, his vitals have all stabilized but I imagine that he has quite the headache and he is still showing signs of dehydration. Will that be all Dr. Banner?" JARVIS asked.

"Yeah, thanks JARVIS." Bruce was scrawling things down silently for a few moments. Bruce stood and grabbed a few water bottles from the fridge before turning to look at Steve seriously. "I’ll go talk to him, but I obviously can’t guarantee that he’ll talk to me either. You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, he needs you."

Steve looked away from him at those words, his eyes filled with pain and Bruce wanted to scream. These two were ridiculously frustrating and it was a wonder the Other Guy didn’t come out all the time because of them. How could Steve not see that Tony needed him? Why does Tony always feel the need to push the people he needs away?

Tony heard the lab doors slide open and knew it was Bruce from the sound of his gait. He continues to fiddle with the calculations in front of him for temperature detecting contact lenses, his new idea for Natasha. He figured if Bruce started lecturing him, he could just ignore him, or throw something at him. He did not expect a glass of ice water to appear at his side; only at the sight of it did he realize how thirsty he was. He snatched it up, quickly gulping down half of it before he remembered breathing was necessary and he had to gasp for air.

"Thanks buddy. I uh, hope that wasn’t for you," he shot Bruce an apologetic smile. "So what can I do for you? Would you like some new toys?" He gestured to the new lab equipment he had actually just ordered for Bruce’s lab, but hadn’t had the chance to show him yet. "Or maybe we could talk some more about making those shorts of yours tear-proof so you don’t end up naked. I meant to ask, actually, where did you keep the extra clothes last battle? When I saw you in my haze you were already clothed again, but it’s not like Big Green had a suitcase with him. Unless the SHIELD agents brought you some…"

Tony knew full well that he was rambling, but he wanted to talk about anything other than last night. He was sure everyone was already calling it his ‘relapse,’ and they were going to make a much bigger deal out of it than necessary. What had they expected, really? That Tony would stay sober forever? If they thought that was likely then they didn’t really know him. At any sign of trouble, Tony will always turn to the bottle and disappoint everyone else, it’s who he is and he had accepted it, why couldn’t they?

"Tony." His tone stopped Tony short. Bruce was his best friend; he never meant to make Bruce sound so hurt and bone-tired.

Tony slumped in defeat, accepting that they were going to talk about this. Bruce never fell for his distraction tactics unless he was just humoring Tony. "Yeah?" he asked tentatively, suppressing a flinch when Bruce raised his hand. He knew Bruce would never hurt him.

It was too late though; Bruce saw the minute stiffening of Tony’s shoulders and hesitated. Was Tony afraid of him? Or just on edge because of everything that’s been happening? He was an abused child, so jumping to the assumption of physical abuse is to be expected from him, especially when not at his full cognitive functioning, but Bruce also had to wonder if it was Tony’s past fears of Howard being projected or a current fear of the Other Guy. He continued onward and laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder anyway. When Tony relaxed a little at the touch, it assuaged his worry a little.

"How are you feeling? I wanted to make sure you got some hydration," he said gently, giving his shoulder a squeeze and taking a seat beside him. "Not that you wouldn’t think to do it yourself," he added wryly. "I know how often you put bodily needs above your work."

Sarcasm and humor were something Tony could deal with; a realm of comfort. Bruce was good at this. "Well you know me, healthy is my middle name."

Bruce placed another water bottle on the worktop. "But honestly, make sure you do rehydrate. We need you in good shape in case of an emergency. Plus I’m sure you’re not going to want that splitting headache I’m sure you have when Cap inevitably comes to talk."

Tony winced. "Yeeeaahh… about that. How mad is he?" He was so thankful that Bruce was not lecturing him right now, he decided Bruce could be his ally in this, since Clint betrayed him so quickly.

"To be honest it’s hard to tell. He actually seems angrier at himself than at you, I don’t think he blames you in the slightest."

Tony sputtered, "But that’s ridiculous! What did he have to do with it? I’m the one that wouldn’t even let him down in the lab with me. There’s nothing he could have possibly done!"

Bruce shrugged. "I have my ideas as to what he’s thinking, but I can’t speak for him. I know you two are terrible at communication bu—"

"—That’s unfair!" Tony interrupted.

"Let me finish," Bruce scolded. "Then you can argue with me. You two are terrible at communicating with each other when it comes to your feelings, but you’re going to have to actually talk this out instead of avoiding each other like you normally do until things blow up and you can’t anymore. We have more important things to deal with right now, like the terrorist out to get you. It’s harsh but—"

"Wait, what!? What terrorist? What are you talking about?" Tony asked, ignoring the rude things Bruce had just said and opting to deal with the part that made no sense.

Bruce cursed himself inwardly for assuming someone had already explained the situation. Of course they hadn’t, Tony had only been home for one night, and that night had consisted of him getting drunk alone in the lab. "I shouldn’t have told you that… I think that was Steve’s job, and I just assumed… We should go upstairs and have everyone explain because I just screwed up…" Bruce cleaned his glasses nervously, not willing to look at Tony in case he was angry. This had been going so well…

Tony went straight for the elevator, looking back impatiently when Bruce walked too slowly for his liking. "JARVIS, meeting room, call everyone there pronto." The elevator sped up, and Bruce had to grab onto the handrail to keep from falling over. Their ‘meeting room’ was actually the entertainment room where they gathered for movie nights, but somewhere along the line it also became where they gathered for team planning and debriefs from the Captain. Tony and Bruce were there first and Tony just pointed to a chair, "Sit," he said shortly. Bruce did what he was told, not wanting to make matters worse.

As each of the avengers filed in, Tony made them sit with a point and a glare until Thor arrived last and sat on the ground. "Tony?" Natasha asked.

"What the hell guys? When was anyone going to mention that there’s a target on my back? And who is it that wants me dead?" Tony demanded, his hands on his hips.

Everyone turned to look at Bruce, who was looking anywhere but at them. "No, don’t look at him. It wouldn’t be an issue if you weren’t trying to keep things like death threats secret from me!" Tony threw his hands up in frustration.

Natasha stood, pulling a folder from under the couch cushion, which was decidedly not weird for her. She kept things in random places. "You’re right."

"Damn right I am."

"You should sit," she said, ignoring the comment.

"I think I’m fine where I am, thank you," Tony said defiantly. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

Natasha walked over and handed him the folder. Phil and Steve both looked like they were about to jump up and snatch it away but she made a stop motion with her hand behind her back that stilled them. She looked at Tony, demanding his eyes and when he was looking at her, she spoke again. "You may be fine, but I think it’d be better if you sit for this."

Tony opted for a compromise; he leaned against the television stand, flipping the folder open. Natasha didn’t move from the spot, ready to do whatever was necessary if Tony didn’t handle this well. The folder was the same meeting notes that Steve had received, although she was sure Tony wouldn’t need to read it all. He was already painfully familiar with the Ten Rings.

Tony looked down at the pages, scanning quickly. None of this made sense. He watched the compound blow up with his own eyes. He figured the ten rings would’ve fallen apart after that. Not to mention that he had hacked into the SHIELD mainframe and saw that they had made sure Raza was dead. He was in a building when it was blown up. Tony watched the footage over and over one night, just to be sure. This couldn’t be happening. He flipped the page and stopped breathing. There was a photograph of a man with the word "MANDARIN" stamped over his face in red ink. He was wearing a robe that was somehow billowing around him as if he were in a windstorm, but he was obviously in a closed room. He had a hand raised above his head and rings on every finger, an eerie glow emanating from them. It reminded him all too much of Loki’s scepter and Dr. Strange’s magic. He hated magic.

He inhaled sharply. Underneath the photo it said that this man was the leader of the still powerful Ten Rings, and that he had a bounty placed for Tony Stark to be brought to him alive to "pay for his unforgivable disrespect to my might. He must be put in his place." The words straight from the international bounty Tony had had no clue about. He was vaguely aware that his legs had buckled. He thought the Mandarin wasn’t real; that all of this nonsense was behind him.

_Suddenly it was dark all around and there were nonsensical shouts. He clutched the battery to his chest, gasping for breath. He couldn’t understand what any of them were saying, but if they got the battery soaked he’d die. Why couldn’t they understand that they’d get nothing out of him then? One of them shook his shoulder and he screamed, terrified they would start drowning him again. He looked up to realize that it was Yinsen._

"_Stark,_" _Yinsen said." You need to breathe. Breathe with me. In… and out…" He started motioning with his hands, and Tony struggled to follow his lead. "In… and out." Tony realized that the others were all just watching with their hands at their sides, that none of them had guns; that didn’t fit._

Yinsen’s face blurred into Agent’s, pulling him out of the flashback. Tony could feel his heart pounding and his hands were trembling. When he looked down and saw that he was still clutching the air as if he needed to hold the car battery he slowly lowered his hands to his sides. Everyone’s eyes were on him and the papers from the folder were scattered everywhere. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed.

"Sir’s vitals are returning to baseline," JARVIS intoned from above.

"Thank you, JARVIS," Coulson replied. He looked at Tony carefully, searching his face for clues to where he was. "Are you with us now, Tony?" he murmured.

"Yeah," he croaked. He slumped back against the TV stand. "Sorry about that," he sighed heavily, then continued before anyone could turn away the apology. "So what’s the plan? How do we find these guys?"

Steve didn’t like that Tony knew about this already. If he had control of this situation, he would have left Tony in the dark the whole time and taken care of it in secret, but that option was already out the window. "Widow’s going to lead this one," he glanced at Natasha. "Unless one of them decides to come out into the open, this is more of a spy or SHIELD agent-type mission, the things she’s an expert in. I assume you have informants around New York that could be of assistance?"

Natasha nodded. She stole looks at Tony while she talked, taking stock of his state of mind. He seemed to be zoning out a little, but luckily not going into shock. He was tough for not having any military or SHIELD training whatsoever. "I’ve already got a few of my sources on the lookout and reporting back to me, but Raza isn’t getting his hands dirty. He’s definitely here in the city, but there’s not a word about the Mandarin as of yet. I’ve also been in touch with Daredevil to keep an eye out in Hell’s Kitchen since he knows that area better than any of us. If Raza so much as says his name on the streets of New York, we’ll hear about it. If it comes to it I can go undercover myself."

"His face," Tony murmured. "Shouldn’t his face be a dead giveaway?" he asked louder. "I wounded his face, it should be fairly deformed. Not to mention, how the fuck did he survive the explosion? That was your job SHIELD. I’ve seen the file, he was taken care of." He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. "I should’ve taken care of him myself. I would have if you hadn’t marked him as deceased." He glared at Phil, Clint, and Natasha in turn.

"We thought he was dead! I know we should have verified with a body check but there was no time and—" Clint started defensively. That mission hadn’t gone according to plan, but they had followed all protocols and there was no way they could’ve known they would be ambushed by the Hand while trying to take out the Ten Rings leader.

"You’re right, Tony," Natasha interrupted, voice even but threatening. She would not take insult to their actions as a whole that day. Coulson had led that mission and he had done everything he could, it was her old enemies in the Hand that had caught them off guard. "We shouldn’t have labeled him dead if it wasn’t verified, but we did what we could and that’s that. Placing blame at this point is unimportant and you’re just trying to cover your fear with anger."Tony deflated a little, telling her she’s correct. "What’s important now is to fix the mistake and take care of the aftereffects. As for his face, one of my CIs informs me that the rumor is major reconstructive surgery, so we can’t rely on scars. Luckily it sounds like he kept his general look, so thank goodness for his ego; we’ll still be able to recognize him."

Coulson stood, Tony just noticing that he had still been kneeling in front of him the entire conversation. "So for the time being, the plan is to sit and wait. Tony, you can’t leave the building alone, and definitely not without the suit."

Tony said nothing but he nodded. Everything he had just learned running through his head. So there was a price on his head. Alright. He could deal with this. He’d dealt with it many times; it was no different now just because it was the Ten Rings. When he looked up, it was just Steve left there with him. He had that pinched look on his face he always had when he didn’t know what to say, but otherwise his face was unreadable, something Tony wasn’t used to. As far as Tony was concerned, Steve was an open book. His face showed every little emotion, and Tony took so much comfort in that, being used to constantly wearing a mask himself. He’ll admit sometimes he misread the thoughts beneath the emotions on Steve’s face, but he almost always got the emotions right. The fact that right now he looked so blank was unnerving.

Steve walked over and sat down beside Tony. "I’m not mad at you, I just thought you should know that," he said carefully. Why did he sound like he was walking on eggshells? Like Tony might blow up at him? "I’m also not going to make you talk about last night if you don’t want to, but I want you to know you can talk to me about it…" he looked like he wanted to say so much more. "…about anything." He kissed Tony on the forehead and when Tony looked into his eyes the mask slipped a little, something was causing Steve pain, which was the last thing Tony expected. Worry, anger, disappointment; all of those made sense to Tony. Pain seemed random.

He stood up to walk away and Tony didn’t know what to do. He felt like he should stop him, but what should he say? He stared after Steve’s retreating back and felt for some reason that it was crucial that he didn’t let him leave. Maybe it was the stuff Bruce said. "Wait!" Steve turned, surprised. "I—I’m sorry. It’s not… your fault?" Where did his genius IQ go at times like this when he desperately needed to form meaningful sentences? "Just stay with me. I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was pleading now. He stood up and closed the distance, grabbing Steve’s hands.

Steve smiled but it didn’t quite light up his face like it was supposed to and Tony frowned. "Tony…" he led Tony to the couch where they flopped down together in an exhausted heap. "What do you mean it’s not my fault? What’s not my fault?"

Tony wasn’t sure how to explain considering he hadn’t come up with that one, it was Bruce, so he decided to just go for honesty. "I’m not completely sure," he gave a sort of half laugh. "Bruce said something about you blaming yourself for my relapse or something, I didn’t really get what he was saying and then I got sidetracked because he said a terrorist was after me and…"

"Bruce?" Steve chuckled warmly. That was a good sign, right? "Of course Bruce is trying to solve our problems. He’s not wrong, although he probably doesn’t know why he’s right." Steve sighed heavily. "Why don’t you care if you survive from day to day? Why do you take so many unnecessary risks? Do you want to die?" Steve’s voice was getting louder and he had to reign it in. He hadn’t meant for that to come spilling out.

Tony was so taken aback at the change of subject his mind stuttered for a moment. "I—no. I don’t want to die. I thought you said you would’ve risked your life too! We discussed this already…" What was happening?

"It’s not just that! You risk your life by testing inventions without precautions, you don’t take medical leave when the rest of us would, and you do reckless things when there are safer ways to save the day. Why?"

Steve’s eyes were boring into him and he squirmed uncomfortably. Something told him there wasn’t going to be an easy way out of this conversation. "I’m not reckle—"

"Yes you are."

"Well I… okay, yes, sometimes I am. In battle, I’m just trying to do what’s best though. You know that, Steve. I just want to save people, I have to," he just wanted this conversation to not be happening. He was going to say something he shouldn’t and Steve was going to know too much.

"There’s a whole team behind you!" Steve ran his fingers threw his hair in frustration. "If you’re hurt, there’s no reason to continue. We’re superheroes too, you know."

Tony dropped his head to his hands. He couldn’t do this right now; he was so bone tired and (although he’d never admit it) scared. Raza still haunted his nightmares. He let out a long sigh. "What do you want me to say?"

"God, Tony." Tony tensed as he felt Steve’s arms suddenly around him. He forced himself to relax into the embrace, because he didn’t want Steve to stop, he was just on edge. "I just want to know what’s going on in that genius mind of yours."

He nuzzled into Steve’s shoulder. This was all too much to deal with and he didn’t know how. He still didn’t really know how to be loved by such a perfect man. Nor did he know how to have this family he had now, that supported him and was always there. It was so foreign.

"I just… have to save enough people, or die trying. I have to," he whispered. There, he had said it. That should explain it all, right? What more needed explaining? He had to save enough people before he died or die trying.

Steve held him out in front of him, searching his face, taking in everything he could. "Why do you say have to? Why not want to? What’s this need you have to save a certain number? It’s like the opposite of a body count…"

p>Realization dawned on his face and Tony shut his eyes. He had been waiting for the day Steve realized what this was actually all about for Tony. He couldn’t say it aloud, so he had had to wait. This was the inevitable conclusion. Now Steve would remember that Tony was actually a mass murderer and be horrified; he’d realize that he couldn’t be with someone like Tony. Tony steeled himself for the blow.

"You know they say I killed hundreds of Nazis?" Steve asked out of the blue. Tony looked up at him, confused. "I don’t remember enough to refute or confirm numbers, I just know I killed a lot. I’ve killed so many people that I’ve lost count Tony, and it haunts me," he said sadly, and he sounded so far away. He was no longer looking at Tony, but at the ghosts of his past.

"That’s different! You were killing Nazis! They were the ba—"

"The bad guys?" Steve gave a harsh laugh. "You know that’s not how it works, Tony. It was a world war. A lot of those men were just trying to survive, and they had loving families that I ripped them away from forever in the name of freedom." He scrubbed his face and sighed heavily. "Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret any of it. I did what I had to; I just wish so much death hadn’t been necessary. The point is, all of us here have killed many people, some we regret and some we don’t, but none of us are bad people. I don’t need to make up for the people I killed and neither do you. That’s an entirely unfair pressure to put on yourself."

"But I killed people without even thinking about it! I made money off of it!" Tony was frantic now, his view of himself faltering.

"And Natasha killed people in the name of communist Russia, which she no longer agrees with at all. Do you think she needs to make up for all of that?"

"No…" Tony knew all about Natasha’s background at this point. He still trusted her with his life, she was a good person; she did what she had to.

"So why do you get to have a double standard for yourself?" Steve continued swiftly. He was like an unrelenting interrogator.

"I… I don’t know. I guess you’re right," Tony shook his head, confused. He had had these thoughts swirling in his head for so long, being ingrained as fact with no one refuting them. He had never thought hard enough about this to notice the flaws in his logic. "I’m confused."

Steve looked at Tony’s eyes and saw that he was being honest. He wasn’t disagreeing with what Steve said and he wasn’t trying to trick him so he could escape the conversation either. He looked like someone had just flipped his world upside down, which made Steve’s chest ache. How long had Tony been living under this illusion that he needed to make up for every last death his weapons had caused? That kind of burden is impossible to bare; it’s no wonder he behaved the way he did. He knew Tony wouldn’t change overnight, but he hoped getting this issue out in the open would at least begin a change in Tony so that he could be happier. That was all Steve really wanted.

He reached out and pulled Tony into him. "I know, Tony," he murmured. "We’ll figure it out together though. I’m always here for you."

Tony said nothing but he lay comfortably in the embrace until the alarm sounded.


	9. The Mandarin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To battle, the Avengers go! With a special guest. Their plan is solid, but does anything ever go according to plan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time we made it to the evil mastermind of the whole fic. TW for torture in this chapter, but I don't think it's super graphic. If you have specific torture triggers you want to avoid like method-wise, you can ask me in the comments and I'll let you know specifics, just don't want to spoil it for everyone else. 
> 
> This fic has two special guests and one of them is in this chapter, the other in the next. I just love adding in Marvel characters that aren't MCU, because I just want to read about all my babies. Let me know what you guys think of the battle! I tried to make it as clear as possible!

"What’s the rundown?" Steve asked as he marched into the Avenger’s jet, pulling his cowl over his face.

Natasha came in over the comm system and Clint was already flipping switches at the pilot’s seat. "Daredevil called me when he overheard some people talking about an operation for Raza in an alley. The two of us almost went in alone to take them down but there’s too many, but know ahead, Raza doesn’t seem to be here." The wind could be heard in the background, making it more obvious she was watching from a perch.

Tony and Thor walked in and Clint took off quickly, headed for the warehouse. "ETA in 7 minutes Tash," Clint said.

Steve gave Clint a look. "For the millionth time, only use code names on the comms. Anyways, will Daredevil be joining us for the fight?"

"Yes, sir," Murdock’s voice came over the comm.

"Always glad to have you Daredevil," Steve said. "Now everyone we’re trying for bringing in everyone alive. Widow, can SHIELD be there to bring them in if we tie them up or knock them unconscious?"

"Yes, but I suggest if we can’t keep them all contained alive until SHIELD arrives that we can’t let them escape regardless."

"What are you suggesting, Widow?" Steve asked carefully.

Clint turned around. "Don’t play dumb, Cap. You know she’s saying we may have to kill some. We lose the only advantage we have right now if word gets out that we know the Ten Rings is behind this. Right now the reward for Tony’s head is still only known in the criminal underground as far as they’re concerned."

Steve looked from Clint to Tony to Thor, hoping one of them would back him on this. "I think they’re right this time, Steve," Tony said, face mask flipped up. "If we knock them all out quickly we won’t have to kill any, but we have to clarify just in case that we’re willing to kill this time."

Steve closed his eyes and held his breath for a second. He said a quick prayer that all of this would go well, opened his eyes, making the sign of the cross. "Okay everyone, the plan is, Thor, stay outside, high enough in the sky that you can see the perimeter. Anyone other than one of us exits the perimeter, you knock them out. The rest of us go in on Widow’s mark and take everyone down quickly and efficiently with no deaths unless one of our lives is on the line. Questions?"

"No, sir," they all said in unison.

The jet came to a nearly silent landing, and they all filed out quickly. The door made a soft hiss behind them, sounding loud compared to their quiet feet. Natasha began giving orders for where she wanted people positioned while Thor swung his hammer in circles, gaining momentum for takeoff. The electricity in the crisp night air was palpable and Clint could smell the dough from the pizza place down the street.

"The second floor is just a perimeter walkway with staircases at the northeast and southwest corners, Daredevil and I will take out those guards. The first floor looks to be about 100 men, two guarding each doorway. The doors are at the north and south ends of the building, Hulk and Cap should take the south end while Iron man and Hawkeye come in the north. Just inside the south entrance to your left there’s a big stash of alien looking weapons; Hulk, don’t let anyone touch it and if they get near, smash the tech. I’d rather lose the chance to study it and not get hit with it than something awful happen for the sake of stealing their tech."

"No worries, I’m in agreement," Bruce said quietly. The hints of anger could be heard simmering beneath his tone. It was obvious he was ready to go Hulk soon, but he knew Hulk couldn’t sneak, he’d have to wait until the go ahead.

"Perfect, now let’s do this quickly guys, and I don’t want to see anyone take a hit. Positions?" Natasha asked. She took command quite well for someone that usually followed Cap’s orders, Tony thought. Though she used to work alone a lot, so she doesn’t need orders, he reminded himself. She probably only follows Cap out of respect.

Everyone gave a terse check, ready to get this over with. Other than Clint and Natasha, nobody was used to missions like this. They were much more comfortable fighting giant monsters in the open than sneaking around in the dark. The sooner they were done with this the better. Plus Tony didn’t like the sound of this alien tech or whatever it was, not if the Mandarin was involved. They could be magic. Magic is the worst.

At Natasha’s count they all crashed in at once, and the men took a few moments to get a handle on the fact that they were being attacked. The Avengers took advantage of this. Hulk knocked everyone away from the corner of guns, his fists sending men flying into tables and walls where a lot of them didn’t get back up. Steve took out several men with the first throw of his shield, catching it just in time to deflect a bullet and knock out two men who had made the mistake of getting close to him. Natasha took down everyone along the east balcony in a manner of minutes before the north side guys noticed she was there. Murdock was having a similarly easy time with the upper lever flock.

Clint and Tony were firing shots left and right, but there were a lot more men flocking to the north end of the building as soon as they realized what was going on. Clint took down a dozen or so with one of Tony’s new experimental arrows. It has a small blast radius that sends out an electric shock through the ground, similar to a taser and stuns people. Neither of them noticed when one of the guys that came around the corner had a strange gun, there was just too much going on.

The man fired and an EMP hit Tony, shutting down the suit and the arc reactor immediately. The searing pain ripped through his chest as the shrapnel started moving again. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said and he couldn’t move very well because the suit was heavy without any power to help him lift all that metal. Shit, how had he not prepared for EMPs before?

Clint turned to see why Tony was cursing and saw the ominous lack of light from Tony’s chest. "Iron Man, wh—" The bullet had come from the man holding the odd gun pointed at Tony, Clint thought as he dropped to his knees. It didn’t make sense because the gun was still facing Tony. Clint’s thoughts moved like molasses as he finally noticed the other gun pointing at him from underneath the larger gun. It was also strange, but in a different way. He couldn’t think anymore, it was too hard. All he saw was white, and who’s that screaming?

Steve heard the cursing over the comms first, but had no way of seeing what was going on in that much detail. He was about to ask Tony to report when he saw Hawkeye hit the ground and heard the screaming start. Clint was screaming and writhing on the ground, his scream so desperate and harsh; Steve had to rip the comm out before he ruined his eardrum. None of this was making any sense, this should have been fairly easy. "Widow! Can you see what’s happening?" He put the comm back in as he ran towards the north end, hearing be damned.

Natasha had seen the whole thing go down, but wasn’t close enough to stop it. Whatever Clint had been hit with was not a normal bullet, and Clint looked flat out crazed. "Cap, Iron Man and Hawkeye are down, this is now a rescue mission," Natasha replied as she jumped from halfway down the stairs, landing in a roll. Her calm demeanor and tone were only skin deep because neither of her friends looked too good right now, but luckily there weren’t many guys left. The man who had shot them heard Steve’s running and turned on him, but Steve deflected the shot. He was about to fling his shield when Natasha reached up and snapped the man’s neck from behind, smiling grimly. No one had heard her.

She and Steve shared a look of understanding and ran to their friends while Hulk started smashing everything, which sufficiently distracted the small amount of men left. Natasha had made it to Clint and Steve was a few feet away from Tony when the Mandarin appeared in a swirl of cape and smoke, slowing Steve for only a second. Unfortunately the Mandarin was gone with Tony again before Steve’s shield had reached him, and it bounced from the wall back to Steve’s hand as Steve stood where Tony had been a mere second before. Steve wanted to scream in frustration or cry or something, but he had another teammate who needed him right behind him, so he pushed the pain of helplessness away for the time being, bringing on the numbness and drive of a soldier.

Natasha was keeping pressure on the wound, but it was difficult while Clint writhed beneath her. "Steve, hold him still," she snapped. She hadn’t needed to of course, as Steve was already in the process of kneeling beside her and pinning Clint’s shoulders down.

She was trying to get him to snap out of whatever this was, because he obviously wasn’t seeing them. The screaming was gone as his voice had gone hoarse and now it sounded more like a forced exhale against a rough throat, or a whispered scream. The sound was unnerving, on top of the fact that Clint’s eyes were wide but he gave no sign of noticing them there. "Clint, it’s Tash, I’m here, I need you to come back, Phil will be here," her voice soothed, "You’re with Steve and I, wherever you are right now I need you to come back to me." He didn’t seem to hear any of it though.

"SHIELD has come," Thor said over the comms just before walking into the north entrance with Phil and a med team flanking him. Phil’s face was ghostly as he saw Clint, and Natasha thanked any gods there may be that he hadn’t been here for the horrifying screams. They backed away as the med team took over, knocking Clint out in order to keep him still so they could do what they needed to stabilize him on the way to SHIELD medical.

Steve looked around, seeing the SHIELD swarm gathering Ten Rings Men in cuffs and doing whatever SHIELD swarms do to clean up their messes, until he saw Bruce walking towards him pulling on a t-shirt, and Daredevil beside him. Everyone else was okay at least. Fuck. Tony was gone with the Mandarin, the one thing they had been trying to avoid. How the hell are they going to find him? What kind of horrors does the Mandarin want to do to him? He’s been harboring this grudge for years. Steve suddenly felt sick. He stepped outside and vomited at the thought of Tony being tortured. He leaned against the wall and breathed in the cold air, trying to calm down.

Natasha stepped out beside him and allowed him the silence he needed for a few minutes. "Don’t do that, it’s not productive," she said softly.

"What?" Steve looked at her, confused. His confusion distracted him from his despair and panic for a moment.

"Imagine what might or might not be happening. It’s no good, we don’t know what’s happening. All we can do is get to work." Her words alone sounded unfeeling and harsh, but Steve had been around her enough to hear what she wasn’t saying. The concern and the desire for him not to torture himself with imagined horrors. She probably knew what that was like. "Come on, we’ve got to get back to SHIELD," she said when she was done searching his face to see that he was alright. She kissed him on the forehead and walked away. Every time Steve thought he had her figured out, she did something he never expected, like that. He numbly followed her to the jet and buckled in. 

* * *

Tony could hear his breath going more and more ragged, and the pain just kept getting worse, he didn’t know how he was going to get out of this one. He was able to hit the latch to lift the faceplate, but it was a struggle. As he got weaker he allowed himself to slowly sit, then lie down, the metal joints of the suit creaking and scraping as he moved with no power. He looked over as Clint fell, but there was nothing he could do and his vision was starting to go black around the edges. He kept pushing it away, focusing on breathing and the pain just to keep himself conscious. When the smoke and cape came in a swirl around him, he saw the Mandarin and was too tired to feel fear. Maybe Steve could save him. But when he felt his body jerked away from the scene with the Mandarin gripping his arm, the world feeling like it disappeared for a split second then came crashing back in another, it made his stomach twist. He _hates_ magic.

The Mandarin smiled down at him as if they were just having a nice chat, the fucker. "Oh dear, is this still not on? I need you alive," he said nonchalantly. He reached down and touched Tony’s arc reactor, which Tony normally would’ve flinched away from, but he was too weak and weighed down by the suit. Tony felt the spark of the arc reactor kick back on and his body jumped at the spark of its own accord. The pain slowly subsided and his breathing grew easier, but that was the longest he’d gone without the reactor, and right after a heart attack. He wasn’t so sure there wouldn’t be lasting damage.

Somehow the ring had turned on the reactor but blocked it from powering the suit. How convenient, Tony thought. Magic really was the worst. The Mandarin easily found all the latches and pulled the suit away. He threw Tony’s shoes and socks away as well, making doubly sure Tony wouldn’t get very far if he ran. Tony started to back away from him without even really thinking, the guy was just right above him and so close, so calm as though Tony were a small child. It made Tony uneasy.

"Stay put or you’ll regret it," the Mandarin said, staring Tony right in the eyes.

Tony gulped involuntarily. Anyone else and he’d be his usual self goddamnit. He took a shaky breath. "What do you want from me?" he asked. He considered it a small victory that he didn’t sound frightened. This man emanated power in a way similar to Dr. Strange, only he wasn’t on Tony’s side; it was terrifying.

The villain laughed darkly, gesturing with his right hand at the pile of suit parts. The red ring on his ring finger shot out a beam and Tony watched in horror as his suit just disintegrated. There went any chance at an escape plan. “What do I want from you? I want you to suffer.” He spat the last word and lifted his left hand with a thrust, the white ring on his thumb shining bright. Tony lifted off the ground as though someone had thrown him, but halted midair as the Mandarin swiped his hand towards the wall, where Tony was flung hard into a wall. He heard a suspicious crunch that was probably a few more of his unbroken ribs, the pain a sharp stabbing in his side even after the impact confirmed the suspicion.

Tony slid slightly down the wall into metal shackles that were waiting in the air for him, leaning heavily against the wall as his feet hit the ground and the shackles clicked shut with a cold finality. His wrists and ankles were chained to the walls with thick chains; it was probably a bit overkill considering he couldn’t do much without the suit anyways.

He remained standing, leaning against the wall despite the intense desire to fall into a heap on the ground. He coughed up blood, but as soon as he had his breath back he looked at the Mandarin straight on. "Well here I am, do your worst. The Avengers will save me, or kill you if I die; either way, you lose." Tony had a lot of experience with being captured and tortured unfortunately. He was kidnapped a few times as a child, a side effect of being the child of a famous billionaire. Then there was the kidnapping in Afghanistan which was done by this guy’s men, so what’s the worst that could happen?

The Mandarin looked slightly surprised at Tony’s demeanor. "You think I’d worry about your friends?" His mouth curved into a small smile. He started walking in a semi circle around Tony, Tony watched him warily. "You obviously don’t recognize the true extent of my power. I can take on all of your friends at once, single-handedly. The most that would happen is I’d break a sweat for the first time in a decade." God, Tony hated cocky bastards like this one. He was the only one allowed to be this full of himself, and that was just a façade. The man turned on Tony suddenly, causing his cape to billow behind him. "Now if I were you, I’d beg for mercy," he snarled. His voice almost had a sound of distant thunder behind it. The supernatural really gave Tony the creeps.

Tony was just making this up as he went along. Obviously this guy harbored deep loathing for him, so he had to tread carefully. He was too powerful to push too far, or Tony’d be dead in a heartbeat. Tony really wasn’t a fan of being tortured, but unless the Mandarin gets distracted, that may be the only thing Tony can expect until Steve shows up. At least he knows Steve will come, he always comes.

Tony decided maybe more questions would distract him, although he was sure it would be prolonging the inevitable. "I’m not the only one who has destroyed your things before. Why do you hate me so much?" He straightened a little, still leaning against the wall. He wasn’t sure how reasonable of a discussion this man was capable of; he seemed fairly delusional, but it could be an act.

"You think this is because you destroyed my things?" the Mandarin asked quietly. "Do you think I am a spoilt child who can’t handle it if someone breaks my toys? No. This is more fundamental than that." He sat down opposite Tony in a cross legged position. "You are a disgusting man, who is a shame to all men of science. You squander your money and give little thought to others unless it makes you look good. You fly around in the guise of a hero, but you’re just a man trying to compensate for all the murder and destruction you’ve caused. You’re filth, but you get everything. Fame, glory, money, women, while I get banished from my country for debt I couldn’t possibly have paid and am hated and feared for my power. All I was trying to do was make my country a better place," he looked off into the distance as though he were somewhere else. _This was good,_ Tony thought. The longer he monologued, the less he tortured Tony.

He shook himself out of his reverie, and looked at Tony again. "Your existence offends me personally." The star shaped gem on his right index finger started glowing with a deep magenta while he was still speaking. Tony eyed his hand warily, as it was balled into a white knuckled fist, and he hadn’t noticed that until now. It looked like this guy was barely holding in his rage.

I offend a lot of people, Tony shrugged. "I’m kind of used to it. It doesn’t sound like there’s anything I can do to get on your good side so it seems we are at an impasse." Tony sounded blasé, but he was trembling as he eyed that ring. Ten rings and Tony had only seen some of the power so far; almost anything could happen.

The Mandarin jumped up and whipped around, punching his fist through the air towards Tony. The blast of light sprang forth from his ring, hitting Tony square in the lower abdomen. It felt solid like a wrecking ball, his insides crushing between the wall behind him and the impact. The blood gushed from his mouth as he fell to his knees heaving. He caught his breath on his hands and knees before he pushed himself back to sit against the wall. He knew if he tried to stand right now he’d fall; he was too weak. When he wiped the blood from his mouth, his hand was shaking. "Do you feel better now?" he rasped, but that short sentence sent him coughing again, spitting up a little more blood.

The Mandarin laughed outright at this. "This does make me feel a little better, actually. But I’ve just had a thought." He started to walk around the lab, gathering things onto a table and moving things around, but Tony couldn’t see much from where he was seated. Tony did notice that they were in a very large and luxuriously decorated building, probably the Mandarin’s infamous mansion. He started thinking through how long it would probably take the Avengers to track him and how long he could last with this madman; the prognosis wasn’t looking great. The Mandarin came back around the corner, levitating a chair behind him and placing it beside Tony.

He gestured for Tony to take a seat in it, even though Tony was sure the dick knew he wouldn’t be able to get himself into it. Tony thought it best to humor him, so he attempted to stand, using the chair for support, but as he stretched out to reach the chair, his ribs were having none of it and he fell back with a hiss. The Mandarin laughed gleefully and grabbed Tony by the neck, slamming him into the chair. He kept his hand around Tony’s throat longer than necessary, smiling darkly as Tony feebly scratched at his hands, desperate for air. Tony was shocked at how strong the man was on top of everything else; why had he had other people doing his dirty work? He could have killed Tony himself a long time ago.

He let go and Tony gasped for air, his throat burning and lungs not filling properly. His lungs already didn’t have enough space with the arc reactor in his chest, so panic and mangled ribs were not a great combination for catching his breath. He had to actively force himself to take slower breaths until they felt a little more natural. "While I have you here, I may as well get some information about the other Avengers out of you before they arrive. You’ll be doubly useful as bait and as a traitor," the Mandarin said. Tony watched him pace. "What are their fears? What leaves them paralyzed with terror? I want to break them before I kill them. They’ve been a nuisance for my organization."

He looked at Tony expectantly. "How should I know?" Tony asked, "I’m not a mind reader."

He faked a move at Tony to watch the flinch, chuckling softly. "But what would you guess? You are a genius and you know them well."

Like hell Tony was going to betray his friends’ fears. "Fuck you," Tony spat.

"Wrong answer." Tony didn’t even see which ring it came from this time; he was too distracted by the pain. Heat was radiating from the Mandarin’s left hand, burning Tony’s right. Tony screamed as his skin blistered before his eyes up his forearm and covering his palm. He wasn’t going to be able to hold anything with that hand for awhile. His screams died slowly and he realized that the Mandarin wasn’t even burning him anymore, but the pain was still excruciating.

"Let’s try this again," The Mandarin sighed. Tony just cradled his burnt arm and glared at him.

"Try what? Were we doing something? I’m sorry, I got distracted," Tony’s voice was monotone. He was sick of this already, how long would he be here? Maybe he’d get lucky and pass out.

The Mandarin just shook his head. "You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?"

"I’ve been told I am, yea—" he broke off into a cry as the skin on his feet started to boil. The Mandarin laughed maniacally and slowly baked Tony’s legs, following him as he squirmed. As Tony tried to fall out of the chair to get away, a white light started glowing along with the red coming from the Mandarin’s hand, making Tony somehow heavier and pinning him to the chair.

It seemed like ages had passed when the burning stopped spreading up his legs. Tony focused on the pain, because that at least meant his nerves were intact. He stared at the Mandarin’s hands, waiting for the next attack patiently. What the Mandarin didn’t realize was that although this would haunt Tony’s nightmares for years to come and give him unwanted flashbacks, in this moment Tony could handle any of it. He could turn off parts of his mind so that it wasn’t all so overwhelming. That was how Tony never gave in to torture.

"You’ll pay for this," Tony rasped. His throat felt like sand paper from the screaming. "If I survive this, I’ll make sure you live in your worst nightmare."

Tony watched the man’s hands clap and slowly looked up at his face. "I knew this would be amusing! You’re threatening me! You sit, chained up in my mansion with no way out, and you threaten me. I love it," he laughed.

The red ring was on his left index finger, Tony finally caught this time. It looked like four capsules that blasted out heat, and Tony saw the orange light in his periphery before he realized in horror that his shirt was on fire. His legs were pinned to the chair, and his arms felt like they were 50 pounds each. He struggled to try and get the flaming clothing off, but not only were his arms heavy but the sleeves were caught on the chains. Pieces of his shirt started falling to the ground in flaming tatters, allowing Tony to escape the hellish heat. At this point every movement made his nerve endings scream and his skin feel like it would crack open, especially on his back. As he had been slouching forward trying to get the shirt off, the flaming fabric hadn’t been touching the front of his torso directly.

"Here let me get that for you," Tony heard the Mandarin’s voice behind him. He arched his back in a scream as something was peeled away, his vision going white for a moment from the pain. The piece of melted fabric and skin fell to his lap as the Mandarin dropped it over his head. Tony felt sick at the sight, and suddenly very dizzy. His vision started to go black as the room spun round but he was jerked back up with a slap to the face. "No sleeping for you now, Tony. I can’t listen to you beg if you’re sleeping." Tony looked at him and wheezed. He couldn’t take much more of this.

The caped magician paced again. "As much as I love watching you burn, I do need info on the others, which it doesn’t look like you’ll give me willingly. That’s quite alright, as I can extract it from you without your permission."

Tony had no idea what this guy was talking about. Was he a telepath like Xavier? Or maybe one of his rings could read minds for him. Maybe he was bluffing. Tony could hardly think straight. Suddenly Tony’s head felt like it was going to split open and then he was in his bed at home screaming.

"_Tony, Tony, it’s okay. You were having a nightmare, you’re at home with me,_" _he heard Steve’s voice next to him. He whipped his head around confused, but there Steve was. He couldn’t remember what his nightmare had been about; just that it had been terrible._

"_Right, right, sorry,_" _Tony said, leaning back against his pillow. Steve started rubbing his shoulders. Tony leaned into the touch gratefully." I didn’t mean to wake you."_

_Steve shook his head with a gentle smile." Don’t apologize, Tony. We all understand nightmares better than most. Do you want to talk about it?"_ _Tony shook his head." That’s alright. I had a nightmare too, you know. So I was already up actually. It was one of the usual."_

_It was Tony’s turn to massage Steve when Steve suddenly looked far away." The ice?"_ _he asked quietly. At Steve’s solemn nod he snuggled in and wrapped Steve tightly in the blanket." I’ll keep you warm and thawed, I promise,"_ _Tony said. Steve sighed happily and they comfortably drifted back to sleep together._

A flash of white light and pain sharp behind his eyes.

_Clint had been at the shooting range for hours. Tony walked up behind him, and saw in Clint’s shoulders’ tension that he noticed Tony’s arrival, but neither of them said anything for another few minutes. Tony saw that Clint’s fingers were bleeding, which must’ve taken a lot out of stress on them because those calluses were thick._

_"Rough day?"_ _Tony asked nonchalantly. Clint nodded but didn’t say anything. Tony thought through the week. Clint had been shot with acid in the eyes and the doctors hadn’t been sure at first if he would see again. He had been blind all week with the bandages over his eyes and he finally got to take them off today, and no one had seen him since._

"_What would you do if they hadn’t healed?_" _Tony asked, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries." Can you shoot blind?"_

_Clint stopped shooting and looked at Tony sharply. Tony suddenly doubted that it was a good idea to come in here, maybe Clint wanted to be alone. Clint’s features softened and he smiled." To be honest I don’t know, I guess I’d have to learn to shoot blind. It’s one of my greatest fears. I mean, what else do I have?"_ _His eyes looked so sad and Tony wasn’t sure that Clint was looking at him or through him at this point. He turned away and began shooting again. How was Tony supposed to respond to an admission like that? He turned to leave._

Another flash of pain and this time Tony saw the Mandarin’s smiling face for a brief moment.

_Thor hadn’t moved from his perch on the edge of the helipad for at least six hours. He looked like a statue of a demigod rather than the real thing. Tony had never seen him so upset. He was afraid to approach the god, but he was worried about him and he couldn’t sit here all night. Thor didn’t move or acknowledge him as Tony sat down beside him._

"_You’re worried about my mental and emotional well-being,_ " _Thor spoke quietly without turning or otherwise showing signs of life. Tony nodded." Well you have been here for hours, and I don’t know what you do with your time in Asgard, but it seems unlike you."_

_Thor finally moved, opening in his posture and facing Tony." You are correct that this brooding is not usual for me, but I had a frightening and distressing experience today that needed pondering."_

_Tony searched Thor’s face, which looked expectant. He didn’t say what he was frightened or upset about, but looked as if he expected Tony to know and say it. Tony thought about what Thor cared about, ticking through what could’ve frightened him and cross referencing that list with a list of possible occurrences of today. Loki was locked away right now and Thor had stayed on earth today, but not with the Avengers until he came for battle then went off to brood; that left Jane." Something happened with Jane?"_ " _Tony guessed._"

_Thor nodded." She was in danger and I protected her, but if I hadn’t happened to be there, she might’ve died. That only reminded me that she will inevitably die before me unless I am slain in battle. She is so fragile, yet I do not want to lead a life without her."_ _His face was so full of earnestness that it made Tony a little uncomfortable. How had this demigod fallen so in love with a mortal? Jane was a lucky woman._

Tony felt tears streaming down his face but couldn’t grasp where he was. His head hurt so much, and his mind seemed to be in a fog. He tried to chase a thought down, something about not saying something, when he went back under.

_Bruce was packing a suitcase when Tony walked in." What are you doing?"_ _he demanded._

"_Leaving,_" _Bruce replied calmly. He continued packing, careful to not look Tony in the eye._

_Tony put his hands on his hips and stood in Bruce’s way, forcing him to stop and have a conversation." Well I can see that. What I meant is why?"_

_Bruce glanced at him before looking away, clearly uncomfortable." To run away from my fears because I’m a coward,"_ _he said hotly, more embarrassed than angry._

"_Your fears of losing control? This again? I’m pretty sure the Avengers can take you if you go completely nuts, man,_" _Tony started, but Bruce stopped him._

"_But what if you can’t? What if just once, I kill one of you on accident? I could never forgive myself,_" _the last word broke. He moved quickly past Tony, beginning to pack again._

_Tony pulled him into a hug without permission." That won’t happen, Hulk loves us. You wouldn’t hurt us, in any form of yourself."_ _Tony sounded so sure, and Bruce wanted to believe it. He hugged Tony back. Maybe he could stick around a little longer._

Pain, Tony could hear whimpering from far away. Was that his voice?

_Tony looked up from his work as Natasha sauntered into his lab." What’s up buttercup?"_ _he asked. He managed to wipe some of the grease from his hands onto his shirt._

_Natasha gave a small smile and a half-hearted glare." Buttercup?"_ _she sighed as she settled onto Tony’s ratty couch. She watched Tony silently as he moved about the lab, waiting until he was messing with nonsense projects before she spoke again." You’re afraid of the Mandarin and the Ten Rings, aren’t you."_ _The phrasing was that of a question but there was no query in her tone._

_Tony bristled." Why does everyone feel the need to check up on me and my fears? I’m not a child. How would you like to talk about your deepest fears with me?"_ _he spat angrily. It was unfair, he knew. This was out of concern but he was so sick of it._

_She looked thoughtful for a moment." I’d love to, I think it’d make me feel better,"_ _she said completely seriously. It was the last response Tony had expected, but then again, when was Natasha ever what he expected?_

"_Oh. Uhm, I don’t even know what you’re afraid of._" _Tony felt like he had walked into the twilight zone." That’s actually kind of embarrassing considering you know me better than I know me."_

_Natasha actually chuckled at that, which Tony considered a win. Tony could count the number of times he’s heard her laugh on his hands." Tony, you’ve read all of my files and known me for years. If you really thought about it, I’m sure you’d figure out what scares me."_ _She looked at Tony expectantly, and he really wasn’t sure why. People always expected him to magically pull answers out of his ass, and that really wasn’t how genius worked._

_Tony thought about the files he wasn’t supposed to know existed. They had been the hardest of his teammates’ to get to; there had been so many false leads and different codes for Black Widow in SHIELD files. The thing that stuck out the most to Tony was Natasha’s multiple times facing her previously-thought-to-be-dead husband, Alexi. She had been forced to fight for her life against a man who used to be her lover but had become an empty shell, doing the soviets’ bidding._

"_The easy answer would be that you’re afraid to have to kill Alexi again,_" _Tony started slowly." To be honest, though, I don’t think that’s it. I think you’re afraid Alexi will come back himself next time, the Alexi you loved and married."_

_Natasha’s face remained neutral." Why would I be afraid of that?"_

_Tony sighed heavily. He was kind of afraid that Natasha was about to beat him up." Because you’re not the Natasha he fell in love with. He wouldn’t recognize you, and there’s the possibility he’d be horrified by you."_ _Tony refused to look at Natasha as he finished saying that, but she remained silent. There was no confirmation that he was correct, but the lack of denial seemed like one to Tony. ___

Tony realized where he was as he felt himself stop seizing. Since when did he have seizures? No, that’s not right, it had to be because of something the Mandarin was doing. He tried to think about the last thing he remembered but there was him in the chair with the tatters left of his shirt, and now he was on the ground, everything in between was blurry and didn’t make any sense. If he tried to think about it too hard, pain seared through his head. He tried to settle onto his back, but the burns were too raw, and he arched his back up with a hiss of pain.

"Here, I’ll help you get into a new position," Tony heard the Mandarin approach before he turned to see him. He didn’t have time to move before the foot connected with his side, sending him sprawling onto his stomach. The blood that welled up came too easily, he had to spit it out to keep from drowning. There’s no way he was in good shape internally. Tony wasn’t so sure he’d make it out of this alive by the time his friends came to the rescue. The Mandarin laughed. "Thank you for giving me what I wanted by the way, now all we have to do is wait for them to show."

"I don’t," Tony broke off into a cough, a small amount of blood spattering on the ground in front of him, "know what you’re talking about," he finished weakly. At this point he just had to focus on breathing and staying alive.

He cried out when he felt a concussive force hit his right leg. Yeah, that’s broken now. "Doesn’t matter," the Mandarin said. "I have all the information I need; now I can just have fun with you." Tony was so done with this shit, it was time to let his mind wander.


	10. Strange Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers get help from a magical expert to rescue Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See what I did there? Strange? I find myself way too funny. Anyway, rescue mission, thank goodness. Poor Tony can only handle so much. I love hurting him I'm terrible.

Steve was having a really hard time focusing. They were sitting around the table listening to Dr. Strange talk, but it was all gibberish to be honest. Something about psionic abilities and magic rings that the Mandarin can amplify. No matter how hard Steve tried to pay attention to his words, his brain would tune out and Stange’s voice became muffled background noise to the ringing in Steve’s ears. He felt sick.

"Captain!" Steve looked over at Fury’s near-shout in surprise.

"Wh-what?" Steve could hear how out of it he sounded to himself, it was probably worse to everyone else. "Did you need something?"

Fury shook his head disappointedly. "Welcome to the land of the living, Rogers. We’ve been trying to get your attention for about five minutes." Steve looked around bewilderedly at the rest of the room, and the pity in their eyes was strong. "If you’re compromised, I need to know so I don’t send you on this mission. Are you well enough for battle, Captain?" Fury looked at him with a piercing glare.

Steve sighed. It was a fair question, especially if it was true that they had been calling for him for five minutes and he had been completely oblivious. But he also didn’t think he could stand to stay back while the rest of his team was in danger, nor could he not be there to try to save Tony. _Tony._ It was the word alone that had been echoing through his head all day, making his chest ache. He was no use like this, though. He had to turn off his feelings, a skill he was rusty at, since he hadn’t really needed it since WWII. He took a deep breath, allowed one last fleeting thought of worry and guilt, then let it all go and became the soldier Tony and his team needed. That’s what Steve was good at, transforming into whatever was needed.

" I’m alright now, Sir. Sorry about that, there’ll be no more issues. Now where were we?" Fury looked him up and down, seemed satisfied, and nodded.

Nobody really liked it when Steve’s voice deadened like that, but they understood the necessity. They could all hear the change after this much time on a team with him. Dr. Strange cleared his throat. "So, I’ll transport us all in at once, and he’ll be expecting all of you, but hopefully not me. I don’t know what tricks he’ll have up his sleeve, but you all have to be on guard for anything. He likes to use illusions to control you and paralyze you with fear, you can’t let him get to your heads. I will take him out and whoever has the opportunity can rescue Tony. Don’t interfere with our battle directly, or you’ll get killed. Your normal fighting skills won’t really help you against magic."

"And once you’ve taken the Mandarin out?" Natasha asked, leaning forward on her elbows. "How will we evacuate?"

"You will stay put until I’ve scanned the place to make sure there’s no traps. Then we will deal with evac. I’ll probably take Tony to medical and SHIELD can come in with the jet for you. We have no idea what shape he’ll be in," Dr. Strange said grimly. No one responded, but they all knew the possibilities, if Tony was even alive.

"Good," Fury said as he stood, hands clasped behind his back. "You will all go rest and be on alert to meet on flight deck as soon as Strange has finished scrying for the Mandarin’s location." With that he strode out, leaving everyone in awkward silence. They rarely worked with Stephen Strange. He and Tony didn’t get along, everyone was at least a little creeped out by him, and he always had an air of having bigger fish to fry. Except this time; he seemed to have a personal vendetta against the Mandarin and the rings of power. Plus, as much as he and Tony didn’t get along, they deeply respected each other. Bruce had a suspicion that Dr. Strange wouldn’t be such a loner if he didn’t have to; that he was always off saving the whole universe but no one knew.

It wasn’t really as if Steve could sleep while Tony was being held captive, and who could blame him? He knew he’d be better off if he did, seeing as it was going on 48 waking hours now, and even super-soldiers needed sleep, but he just couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Tony falling, the arc reactor dark. If he kept his eyes closed for too long he started imagining the torture that the Mandarin might be doing to Tony. He silently cursed his imagination and his own experiences with torture for fueling it.

When the alarm finally sounded, he was already in his uniform, sipping coffee in the kitchen. Everyone was on the flight deck within ten minutes, and Strange was directing everyone where to stand.

When they were all in a circle around Dr. Strange he spoke, "Hold hands and be ready for anything. I will get us there, but I make no promises as to what follows." Everyone nodded and Steve shut down his emotional side again as he listened to Strange chant in some foreign language. The group was engulfed in an orange glow, with the light source coming from Dr. Strange himself. Steve blinked as the light reached the point of blinding then died down and they weren’t on the Helicarrier anymore, they were in a large room with lush carpeting and decorated walls. Everyone took a fighting stance without a second thought, looking around for the Mandarin and anyone else who may be waiting.

Steve saw movement on the far side of the room, and when he honed, he watched in horror as Tony’s body slammed against the wall. He stayed pinned up there, far beyond anyone’s reach, and his breathing looked ragged.

"Why hello, Earth’s mightiest heroes," the Mandarin’s deep voice echoed as he sauntered towards them. He looked at each of them, an arrogant smile plastered across his face until his gaze landed on Dr. Strange, wiping the smug look off in an instant. "YOU," he screamed, pointing at Strange angrily. Strange went flying backwards, his head hitting the wall. Everyone sprang into action immediately.

He flicked aside the arrow Hawkeye shot without a second thought, then one of his rings glowed and Hawkeye stilled. He made Steve’s shield halt mid air, then it came back at Steve full force. Steve caught it no problem, but suddenly a chill came over him, like he was being plunged into the icy ocean again. He gasped in shock, unable to move and suddenly he was back in the ice, darkness closing in around him. He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t speak to Peggy. His vision darkened as he heard his heartbeat slow.

Clint couldn’t see a damn thing. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do without his sight. He could shoot at noises, but then he might shoot one of his teammates. It was taking nearly all of his energy to not panic; it had to be a trick from the Mandarin. He couldn’t actually be going blind. That didn’t change the horror of the situation though. What if whatever the Mandarin did was permanent? What good was he if he couldn’t shoot? That’s all he was good for. He listened carefully to see if his teammates needed him, but none of what he heard made sense. The Hulk had turned back into Bruce and he was crying, Tash was talking to herself, and he didn’t hear Steve or Strange at all.

The Hulk bounded for the Mandarin, roaring with anger that his best friend was hurt. He felt the crunch beneath his left fist as he was nearing his foe and he turned around in confusion. There on the floor was Tony, crushed beneath the weight of the Hulk. That didn’t make any sense; Tony had been up on the wall. Suddenly he was Bruce again as his shaking hands touched Tony’s face. It was real; there was no illusion. Bruce felt for a pulse but there was none, Tony’s body was lifeless. He had been breathing when they arrived, Bruce was sure of it. Bruce’s mind stuttered to a halt; what had he done? It had finally happened. He had killed his best friend.

Alexi stepped out from behind the Mandarin, and Natasha didn’t even blink. How many times would her husband’s face be used against her? She knew what had to be done and she’d do it again and again; she didn’t know why they thought this would do anything to weaken her. She took him down at the knees and was ready to snap his neck when he spoke. "Natalia?" he sounded so confused, and that stopped her short.

She let him go and stepped back, looking at him again, this time a little more closely. "Natalia, what have they done to you?" he sounded so broken and terrified.

"What do you mean?" she asked, monotone.

"Is that even you? You look like a weapon." None of this made any sense. He knew what she was now. He had been made into a weapon himself, several times over. They had fought to the death. What was he playing at?

"You know what I am," she said darkly, stepping towards him again. Instead of fighting back like she expected, he started backing away on his hands and knees as though she were a monster and he were defenseless. She stopped again. "Alexi, what is this game you’re playing?"

He shook his head, "I don’t know. Don’t come near me, I-- I thought we could be reunited, but I don’t know you." A single tear fell down his cheek. This couldn’t be real, she wouldn’t fall for this. He never came back good. He was always back to kill her, or to use her. If he was really back, then she wouldn’t know what to do.

"Don’t do this to me," she whispered. "Why are you doing this?"

Thor started swinging his hammer to gain momentum, staring the cowardly magician down. The magician smiled and he couldn't wait to wipe the grin off that face but a voice stopped him.

"Thor?" he heard Jane's voice from behind the Mandarin somewhere. He stepped to the side to see where she was and she was tied to a chair. Everything else immediately became less important, because there was red seeping through the rope at her abdomen.

He ran to her side, tearing the rope away. "Jane? What happened? When did he get you?"

She clutched at her stomach where the rope fell away, trying to put pressure on the wound. "Thor, go save Tony. He's in worse shape than me." her lips were quivering as she talked, and she looked so pale. But Thor could also see the determination in her eyes to make him save others before her.

By Odin, this was why he loved this woman, with such a pure heart. How could she expect him to leave her? "But Jane, I can get you out of here." He moved to scoop her up but she moved away, shaking her head.

"Tony first," she managed before breaking into a coughing fit. She spat blood with each cough and she fell off the chair with the force of the fit. Thor lunged forward and caught her, holding her carefully in his lap.

"I think you underestimate your injuries, my lady" Thor said sadly, a terribly bittersweet smile playing across his lips. He could feel Jane's life slipping away and he wasn't going to be able to save her. Why had the Mandarin taken her too? Just to get at him?

"I'm sorry," Jane said softly. Her lips were stained with blood but Thor didn't care anymore. He bent over and kissed her gently.

"No, I'm sorry," he murmured. "I love you so much." She looked up at him with tears hanging from the outer corners of her eyes. She took a breath to say something, but she shuddered one last time as the breath left her. She was gone.

Tony could do nothing but watch his friends suffer from his birds eye view. The Mandarin had them all falling apart at the seams in no time. He tried to shout at one point, to snap one of them out of it, but all that had gained him was a painful coughing fit and more blood loss. If Dr. Strange would just wake up, they may just have a chance, probably not Tony, but at least the rest of them. Steve was in a block of ice the Mandarin had formed, Clint wasn't doing a damn thing except looking bank and confused, Natasha was muttering about something but she looked torn between furious and terrified, Thor was broken over an imaginary Jane, and Bruce... Well Bruce was kneeling, naked on the ground holding an imaginary person in his arms and and sobbing.

Just as The Mandarin started to walk towards Stephen Strange, presumably to finish him off, Strange disappeared with a pop, appearing behind him and trapping him in a bubble of green flames. Tony wasn't sure if Strange had been awake longer and faking it or he just had impeccable timing.

The Mandarin's face twisted into a hideous mask of hatred. He punched at the bubble while one of his rings glowed, and Tony could see a ripple effect on the bubble where he hit. He was shouting but there was no sound from out here. Tony watched in fascination as Strange started chanting a prayer of sorts and the man in the bubble panicked. The panic didn't last for long as he slowly fell to his knees, then prone and still.

It took a moment for Tony to realize he was falling, which was alarming in and of itself. The pain of his burned skin scraping against the wall as he started sliding downwards would've made him scream if he had the breath in him. He was free falling now and it felt like forever and instantaneous somehow, and when Tony slammed into the hard ground it was his right side that he landed on, and it felt like his rib cage just shattered.

He tried to suck in a breath and he couldn't. When he tried to turn his head to see Dr. Strange approaching, his vision went blurry and white around the edges. He could only tell it was Strange because of the cape. He was vaguely aware that he was shivering, and something warm dripped from his mouth. Stephen's face was right there and he was saying something but Tony couldn't make it out over the roaring sound in his ears and his lungs were burning. He tried desperately to breathe again and his vision went black.

Strange rushed to Tony and worked a quick spell to stop the fall but it was too late, all he could do was slow it down and lessen the impact somewhat. He hoped it was enough. He silently cursed himself for being so focused on the Mandarin that he forgot the magic pinning Tony would fail.

He wasn't sure Tony was going to make it but he would try his damndest. Tony was an old friend and seeing him like this was rough, especially when it was because of a scumbag like the Mandarin. He gently told Tony that he was going to be alright while he did a quick internal check, magic running through his hands, over and through Tony's body, and back into himself. He hoped to all the Gods that he wasn't lying. Tony's lungs were collapsed and he was a wreck internally, and he had lost a lot of blood. On top of that he had burns all over.

Strange looked around at the others, some of whom were slowly coming away from illusions, but Rogers was still frozen. He'd come back for them, Tony needed attention now.

The darkness occluding Clint's vision lifted like a cloud of smoke. He whipped his head around, taking in the new situation. The Mandarin was out cold on the floor but Strange and Tony weren't there anymore. He could only hope that that meant Strange had got Tony to Medical. He turned to see Natasha brushing away a tear, but he'd never mention it to her unless he wanted his fingers broken.

Bruce was looking around confused and he was naked and Clint could help there. He walked towards him, pulling the spare pants out from his satchel. As he drew nearer, Bruce jumped up and grabbed the pants from Clint's outstretched hand a little too forcefully.

Clint cleared his throat. "Are you alright, buddy? You look like you could use a hug." It was no secret that Bruce was a bit snugly and clingy after hulking out.

Bruce looked down and blushed before he looked back up at Clint. "I-I thought I killed Tony..." he started choking up again so Clint pulled him into a hug. Bruce clung like Clint was a lifeline.

When Natasha walked up they pulled apart, and no one mentioned that Bruce was crying again. "Steve is frozen," Natasha said matter-of-factly, motioning for them to follow her. They walked over to where Steve was in a literal block of ice. The rest of them seem to have been dealing with mind tricks but Steve was physically attacked.

"What should we do?" Clint asked, touching a finger to the ice. Natasha slapped it away.

"Not that, there could be residual magic," she snapped.

"It is a definite risk," Thor said from behind her. She turned and moved to let him step into the group semi circle they had formed.

"I think all we can do is wait for Strange to return at this point," Bruce pointed out reasonably. "It's not like we can get out of here without him."

"Tis true, I could leave but not with any of you," Thor added.

Clint agreed but he waited for what Tash had to say. She always had better ideas than he did. She stood quietly for a moment before giving a slight nod and sitting right there on the floor. "But we keep an ear open for extra company," she added.

Bruce sat beside her and looked exhausted, so Clint had nothing to do but follow suit. He looked up at the capsicle uncomfortably. "Do you think he can see us?"

Bruce shook his head. "His eyes may be open but if he's still alive, his body has probably shut down everything to the bare minimum, like being in stasis. I doubt his mind is working at all right now."

Clint shuddered. Poor Steve, he was not going to be happy that this had happened again when he woke up. He looked at Natasha, and she was staring at him. They both knew that everyone had gotten hit with their fears, but the question was how. There's no way Tony would sell them out, especially Steve.

"Our intel doesn't say anything about telepathy," Natasha said quietly. "But that intel is very limited and outdated. Although maybe that psionic stuff Strange was talking about includes telepathy?"

Clint bit his lip. "You think maybe he read all of us that quickly? He'd have to be like Xavier levels of powerful." He had trouble believing that. They'd met a lot of telepaths over the years but it was hard to be like Charles Xavier.

"No. I think he read Tony about us, forcing Tony to think about our weaknesses. I'm just surprised by how much Tony knew, to be honest," she shook her head as if to clear it.

"I'm not." They both looked over at Bruce, who smiled affectionately. "He’s very perceptive, guys. Don’t forget that he’s always got JARVIS watching, and he uses that to make sure everyone is as happy as they can be. Why do you think he wanted us all to live in his tower?" Bruce asked, a slight laugh behind his words. At their silence he decided to press on. "That’s the place where he can look out for us; be the Avengers’ dad, to Cap’s mother hen." At that he grinned.

Clint was shocked at the sharp laugh that that pulled out of him. "Oh my god, Bruce, you’re completely right." He looked back up at Steve’s frozen face. "And Steve is totally a mother hen, it’s embarrassing."

The corners of Natasha’s mouth curved upwards. "And Phil is the babysitter because we’re all actually a bunch of children playacting at adulthood," she huffed out a soft laugh. They sat there in a circle like that for a bit, and Clint had no idea how long it was before they heard the pop of Dr. Strange returning. They just basked in each other's quiet company while they worried for their teammates and tried not to think about how they had all kind of fallen apart in battle today. Needless to say they all had at least one more thing to fuel their nightmares.

Thor sat there quietly and Clint tried to avoid looking at him. He looked so angry and brooding, the static in the air around him was palpable. It was times like these that Clint suddenly remembered how powerful and terrifying Thor was.

Strange had returned with a team of SHIELD agents, including Coulson. Coulson gave Clint a questioning look, and only when Clint gave him a small nod that he was unhurt did he move with the rest of the team. They quickly apprehended the Mandarin's unconscious body and had a team assessing the captain while Clint, Bruce, Thor, and Natasha stood and watched, waiting to give their reports.

Coulson gave Bruce a t-shirt with a SHIELD logo on it before gathering the three of them around. "Stark's in critical condition in medical, Dr. Strange kept him alive until they could stabilize him. Steve is looking like he's in the same condition as when we found him on ice the first time so we can deal with that at the lab. Strange tells me you were all under illusion spells, so SHIELD protocol requires therapy sessions after Strange clears that you're magic free. Are we all agreed?" When Clint looked like he was about to protest he held up a hand. "That includes you, Barton," his voice was sharp. "We have to treat all magical mind play as possibly traumatic, you know that from experience."

Natasha and Bruce walked over to talk to Dr. Strange, conveniently leaving the two to quarrel in peace. Thor had already moved to stand off at the sideline, looking like his mind was very far away. Phil moved forward, an awkwardly jerky motion as he tried not to lunge into a hug, but still wanting the physical contact desperately. He wasn't one for public affection, at least when SHIELD agents who were under him could see, as it undermined his "I'm-an-emotionless-robot" act that scared the newbies and earned him respect.

Clint met him halfway and hugged him, allowing Phil to rub his shoulders for a second. He needed Phil so much right now but here wasn't the time or place. "You know how I fair with therapists," he said softly, looking up at Phil through his eyelashes, putting on a slight pout.

The side of Phil's mouth twitched. "Nice try, but that's not going to work. What'd he do to you anyway?" Phil's fingers closed around Clint's and they slowly made their way towards the chaos surrounding capsicle and the Mandarin.

Clint let out a long sigh. "Nothing really, he just blinded me. It's Natasha and Bruce he had crying. And you know that's a feat with Tash." It sounded too forcefully casual even to his own ears. Clint cursed his inability to lie well to Phil. Anyone else and they'd never tell if he was lying... Except maybe Natasha.

"Just blinded you?" Phil asked carefully. Not pushing, but also not letting anything slide. Why have therapy when you can have Phil?

"That IS all he did..." Clint replied. "It's just, ah..." he scrubbed a hand over his face. "I can't shoot if I can't see. I'm useless. It's- well it's-"

"One of your biggest fears," Phil interrupted, saving him from having to verbalize it. Clint looked at him a little helplessly. "Being useless. If that blindness were permanent, what would you do?"

Clint caught himself holding his fists too tight and had to consciously loosen them to stop his fingernails digging into his palms. Sometimes it drove him nuts how easily Phil read him, whereas Phil was often a complete mystery to him. "Yeah," he managed, but his voice cracked. He turned away and walked more quickly towards the others. He was done with this conversation for now.

Phil let him create a gap between them. He had learned over the years when to give Clint space. When they got to bed tonight, though, Phil would show him how much he'd always be needed and useful. At least to Phil he would be.

"I can transport us all at once back to SHIELD but I'll have to treat the captain as a large object since he can't actively participate in the spell," Strange was explaining to Bruce and Natasha as Phil walked up. Clint was over talking to a few of the other agents.

"Actively participate?" Bruce asked, genuinely interested in magic, something he knew so little about.

"By knowingly allowing me to include you in the spell and not breaking the circle, you are participating. In fact your willingness strengthens the spell. So the Mandarin Will weaken it by knowing what it is but being unwilling. If his speech weren't bound he could actively counteract the spell."

"How long until we can go?" Phil asked. They had to get to work on Steve.

Dr. Strange turned to him. "I'm actually ready now as long as your men can hold the Mandarin upright in the circle."


	11. Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers all deal with trauma in different ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a "let's deal with everyone else before we can get back to Tony" chapter. I love writing everyone as important characters in this big family, but it is hard to balance so many characters in one fic. I didn't want the whole thing to be Tony, Tony, Tony just because I love him so much. They're all SO important to me.

They popped back into existence in a backroom at SHIELD HQ. A dolly was there already so they got the capsicle onto it and rolled him away. Phil turned to the three Avengers. "I'm going to go supervise the Steve thawing. You three go with Dr. Strange to be cleared of any magical influence then go debrief with Fury. Tony is still in surgery but when you're done debriefing I'll update you on his condition."

"I'll have someone else on Asgard double check, but I'm clean. I've had enough experience with illusions from my brother to know what I'm speaking of," Thor said, and his tone brooked no argument, so Phil only nodded in agreement. SHIELD really had no way of controlling Thor, so they just don't try.

"I must go see the lady Jane," Thor said, walking towards the door. "I will return," he added before leaving without any further explanation.

Phil gave the rest of them pointed looks which totally said "take care of yourself" before also walking out the door.

Doctor Strange turned to them. "I'm sorry, but if he did put illusions into your heads I will see everything you did when I'm checking for magical footholds in your minds. It's an invasion of privacy so I need to know that you each understand this and accept this before I can begin."

Clint's breath caught. How many times was he going to have to have magical people in his head? His experience with Loki still felt like a raw wound. He nodded his understanding anyways with the others. What choice did he actually have?

Strange nodded solemnly, stepping towards Bruce first. "If there's a magical anchor placed in your mind, you'll have to relive the memory it's placed in, are you prepared for that possibility?" he looked Bruce in the eyes.

Bruce chuckled darkly. "Are you? The other guy could kill you."

Strange shook his head. "I'll take that as a yes. I can take care of myself." He placed a hand on Bruce's head and closed his eyes. From what Clint could tell it looked like they both entered some sort of trance, but their hair started to defy gravity. It only lasted about a minute and Bruce's eyes snapped open.

Stephen stepped back, sighing softly. "You're clean. I'm sorry for what he did, though." He had never been good at comforting. Bruce cleared his throat and shook his head, unable to say anything. Strange took that as his cue to move on to Natasha.

The process was the same, and yes, her hair definitely defied gravity, it was cool. She didn't show any emotion though and Strange didn't say anything, he just looked vaguely uncomfortable.

Natasha grabbed Bruce's wrist and tugged lightly, "let's go start debriefing." Bruce followed obligingly, and Clint knew she was doing this because he was uncomfortable around magic and didn't want them to see. He hoped she knew he was grateful.

When he looked at Strange, he had an odd look on his face. "Just verbally giving permission isn't the same as being willing," he said. How cryptic.

"I don't understand," Clint said carefully. "I'm willing."

Strange shook his head. "No. You're afraid, you're radiating fear and that will make it hard for me. It could end up with adverse effects if you don't trust me. Do you trust me?"

Clint let out a burst of air. He didn't want to do this. "I-- you're right, I'm terrified. But I trust you not to hurt me, is that good enough?"

Strange considered that. "It should be alright then." Clint tensed when Stephen touched his head and he had to actively relax. They met eyes and Clint nodded in response to the questioning look there.

His mind blanked and his eyes closed. He could feel the presence of Strange in his head, but nothing more specific than that. It was over as quickly as it started and he shook his head to clear the feeling.

"Am I clean, Doctor?" Clint asked nonchalantly.

He chuckled at the title. "You weren't put under any illusions, Clint. You have no residual magic."

That stopped Clint short. Wait, what? I was blind, Strange. Are you telling me that was real? he refused to acknowledge the fear in his voice.

Strange shook his head. "Sorry, I was unclear. There was no illusion, but he still used magic on you. The ring on his right pinky is called the Nightbringer. It can create an area of total darkness, so he put you in a cloud of darkness. When he went unconscious it dissipated."

Clint wanted to scream. "Was this cloud attached to me or the place I was standing?"

"The area."

"So if I would've fucking moved my ass out of said area, I'd have been able to see again." Clint was so done with this shit and he felt like an idiot.

Strange looked at him like he was trying to read him and Clint resented that. "Maybe. The Mandarin can move the darkness, but he probably wouldn't have because he was distracted with me. You couldn't possibly have known though. I was supposed to be the one prepared to deal with that man and yet he knocked me unconscious in ten seconds."

Clint knew that line of thought and self blame and it was dangerous. "You still saved us all," he reminded Strange.

Strange smiled sadly, "luckily. But such statements may be premature." He turned and started walking out. His cape billowed behind him and Clint had never noticed how deep the red was. It didn't look like fabric, but somehow otherworldly. He turned, "accompany me to debriefing?"

Clint started following him and they made their way to the conference room in companionable silence. When they walked in, Bruce and Natasha were sitting at one end of the long table talking quietly and Fury was at the other end writing things and tapping away at his phone.

He looked up at the two of them, motioning for them to sit. Clint sat heavily into his chair. Strange remained standing. He gave Fury a look and Fury balked. "Yeah, you don't have to be here. Go fix the good Captain. Is everyone else clean?"

"Thor did not allow me to check, saying he could get someone in Asgard to. I haven't checked Tony but that'll have to wait until he's conscious. I will update you on the captain's condition asap." With that the sorcerer left in a hurry.

Fury turned to the rest of them in the room. "What the hell happened there? From the sounds of it, the Mandarin had you all incapacitated in ten seconds flat."

Clint and Bruce started fidgeting but Natasha doesn't take shit. "We were compromised, sir. He had us at a disadvantage," she explained.

Fury looked at her intently but she didn't flinch. "Clarify." he said quietly.

Natasha took a steadying breath. It was so subtle, Clint wasn't sure Fury could notice it. "He knew how to paralyze each of us with fear," she spoke quietly, monotone. The equivalent of getting emotional for her.

Fury's face softened. "Do you think Tony gave up info?" he asked. At everyone’s immediate head shaking he dropped that line of thinking. "We'll have to make sure our files on him are updated, because he has to have some kind of mind reading capability. What did he hit each of you with? Your pasts?"

Natasha nodded, not willing to say it out loud. Bruce took off his glasses and began wiping them so he wouldn't have to make eye contact. "He made me think I killed Tony," he murmured. His voice was so quiet Clint could hardly hear him but Fury's expression said that it was loud enough.

Clint didn't really want to say it out loud. He felt stupid. The others seemed like they had dealt with some real shit and here he had been in a fucking cloud of darkness he could have stepped out of. He sighed. "I was blinded, sir."

Fury looked at him blankly. He couldn't read Fury for the most part. He had been working for the man for years and he still couldn't read those damn facial expressions. "Okay," was all he said. He clasped his hands together, sweeping his gaze across the three of them. "Fill out your reports by the end of the week. Go get some rest, and get a quick check up by medical. You're dismissed."

Clint stood up a little too quickly and his chair clattered loudly as it tried to topple but regained its balance. The others gave him quick glances but no one said anything thankfully. Everyone was feeling off their game and Clint was sure he wasn't the only one desperate to get out of there.

He made his way down to the lab where they thawed Steve the last time, hoping that's where Phil was. As he rounded the last corner he saw Phil leaning against the wall, his head tilted back and eyes closed, just outside the door to the lab. He looked exhausted.

At the sound of Clint's footsteps (the sound he made sure to make) Phil opened his eyes, a tired smile creeping across his face. "Hey."

"Hey," Clint responded, leaning on the wall beside him. "How's your hero?"

Phil scrubbed a hand over his face. "Dr. Strange is going to take care of it this time, and he says Steve should be good as new within the hour. Magic is weird," he scowled. "Don't get me wrong, it's great that he can fix this so quickly, I just keep wondering what it would've been like if SHIELD had had a relationship with him the first time around. Steve could've had so much more time to adjust before the incident, y'know?" His voice had taken on a nostalgic tone, as if his mind was really back then. Only Phil thinks about all the tiny details like this.

"Doesn’t matter now, Phil," Clint said gently, slipping his hand into Phil’s and leaning on the wall beside him. Phil looked at him carefully, searching his face. "Stop that, I don’t want to play the ‘let’s get read like an open book by Phil Coulson’ game right now. I’m not in the mood." His tone was harsher than he wanted, but he was trying.

Phil’s face fell slightly. He leaned in and gave a gentle, questioning kiss, not sure if this was what Clint wanted either. Clint returned it, but pulled back after a short time, looking down. "What are you in the mood for?" Phil asked.

That was a good question. So many things and nothing at all. He wanted to drink himself to sleep, shoot until his fingers bled, sit at Tony’s bedside, have passionate, rough sex, and also sit and stare at a wall doing absolutely nothing. He looked up in surprise when he felt Phil tugging his arm. "Come on," Phil said, leading him down the hall. He had no idea where Phil was taking him, but he followed anyway. He may be terrified to be blind, but he’d blindly follow Phil Coulson any day.

The door to the lab slammed open and Darcy jumped. Thor was standing there in his full battle armour and the look on his face was terrifying. "Jane!" she shouted behind her, not looking away from Thor, who was normally so cheerful and relaxed here. He didn’t even look at her, he just started walking forward towards the direction Jane’s voice was coming from.

"What now, Darce?" Jane’s exasperated voice came from the back of the lab, behind a giant pile of books. Thor had reached the table before Darcy could explain though, and he flung all of the books to the side with one hand. They clattered to the ground loudly in a giant mess, and Jane yelped in surprise. When she realized who it was, her expression turned to irritation. "What the hell, Thor? I needed those!" But she stopped when she saw his face, "Wha--"

Thor reached a shaking hand forward and touched her face, as though he weren’t sure she were real. "Jane," he spoke softly. Jane had never heard him speak so softly. His voice sounded steeped in hurt.

Jane reached up and held his hand in her much smaller hand. "What’s wrong, love?" She had never seen him like this, nor had he ever lost his temper around her.

He knelt down on one knee, making their eyes the same level, as she was still sitting. "I--" his voice broke. "I apologize, milady Jane, I needed to see that you were alright and my emotions were not in check. I did not mean to frighten you." He caressed her cheek and held a hand in her lap.

"What happened? Why would you think something was wrong with me?" Jane asked in a worry laced voice. She reached up and tucked some of his golden hair behind his ear, searching his eyes for answers. There was so much fear and sadness there, and not the aching far away sadness she was used to with Thor, but a raw sadness; a fresh wound.

"The Mandarin…" he paused, waiting for Jane to show a sign of recognizing who that was. She nodded, that’s who had kidnapped Tony. "... reminded me of your mortality; no, not just that. He reminded me of your fragility." She watched in helpless despair as he pushed the raw emotions back, and the far away sadness returned. Her mortality, although he wasn’t technically immortal, was always a sore subject. Thor was a positive, often happy man. Yet at the same time, he was a wise and old demigod, young for a demigod but much older than humans. With this wisdom came that far away sadness that Jane was pretty sure most people couldn’t see. Only sometimes could she push it away.

She pulled him in for a fierce hug. "I’m sorry," she whispered. "We just have to enjoy what we have while we can." She leaned back and gave him a tentative smile.

Thor returned her smile and they started making out. That was Darcy’s cue to leave. That part was always gross. Why did they always have to do this when she was around? They have a room! Sometimes she could swear she’s invisible or something.

Natasha got her psych eval over with as quickly as possible. She always knew exactly what to say to get away scott free whether she was traumatized or not and she was trained from a young age to control body language and facial expression. There really was no use. As soon as she finished listening to the SHIELD psychologist ramble about how amazingly resilient she is, she went to go find anyone willing to spar. She needed to fight. If she could just get in a good fight and burn off the anger, then she could meditate and be fine so she could go wait for Tony to come to. Unfortunately none of the agents were willing to fight, probably because they were all terrified of her. It was probably for the best anyway, the only sparring partner that could handle her right now in the SHIELD building would be Steve, and he’s a block of ice.

Giving up on that idea she pulled out her cell phone. It didn’t even get through the second ring. "Hello?" Matt Murdock’s voice floated through. "Tasha?"

She smiled. "Hey Matt. You busy?" Despite preferring to be a loner, Natalia Romanova had to admit that sometimes it was nice to have friends to lean on.

Bruce sat in medical, waiting. It was all he could do. He needed Tony to be alright and he needed it like he needed air. He knew logically that he hadn’t actually done anything to Tony, but he needed to see Tony alive to believe it emotionally. Plus that was his best friend in there. He needed him alive because he needed his best friend. Bruce felt the tears well up again, and he dropped his face to his hands. Tony was so good to everyone. He never deserved anything like this. How many times was Bruce going to sit in a hospital waiting with baited breath to see if Tony makes it out alive yet again? This was the second time in the same month. Bruce had to watch as so many of his team members were hospitalized over and over, especially Tony. It was never Bruce. He was too invulnerable as the Other Guy. Just once he wished it would be him instead. If anyone deserved it, it was him.


	12. Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange takes care of business and Steve and Tony find their happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're almost finished!

Steve shivered. He was so cold. There was a source of warmth to his right so he turned towards it. It was so warm, he just wanted it to envelop him and get rid of this wretched iciness. At first he thought maybe it was a fire because of how hot it was, but he didn’t hear any crackling. If it was Tony then he had a worrisomely high fever. That was when Steve’s sluggish thoughts started catching up. Shit, Tony… Tony was kidnapped by the Mandarin… They had gone to save him and…

He couldn’t remember what happened. All he could remember was Tony looking broken so high up on the wall, out of his reach. Where is he? Is he ok? He tried to open his eyes but he felt so heavy. "Tony," he murmured.

It shouldn’t have surprised Stephen Strange how soon Captain America began moving and trying to wake, but it did anyway. He was stronger than he should be, and before Strange was done with warming him, he began struggling against the sleep. He really wasn’t at a temperature yet where he should be able to function, yet he’s already thinking and murmuring about Tony. Strange shook his head with a small smile. Love was a magic all of its own.

When Steve was finally able to pry his eyes open, he was surprised to see Doctor Strange standing over him. He tried to sit up, but his muscles were too stiff. Strange looked apologetic. "Sorry, I had to make your internal temperature top priority to prevent organ damage. If you could wait just a few more minutes, I can finish warming your muscles and it’ll be much easier to move."

"Yeah, of c-course," Steve said. He was still shivering. "Th-thanks."

Strange shook his head and chuckled. "It’s the least I could do to…" he trailed off, looking a little more grim. Steve waited to hear the rest but Strange must have decided not to say whatever it was. Steve sighed in relief as he felt warmth slowly wash over him from head to toe and he could finally stop shivering. "All finished," Strange said, stepping away so Steve could sit up.

Steve felt tired, but otherwise unharmed. "What happened? Where are the others? Is Tony…?" he couldn’t bring himself to ask anything specific. There were too many horrific possibilities.

Strange seemed to understand. "Tony is alive. He was still in surgery last I heard, but I’ve been in here working on you, so he could be stabilized at this point. The others are all physically uninjured and I do not know their whereabouts." Steve took note of the qualifier ‘physically’ thrown in there. "As to what happened," Stange continued, "you were frozen in a block of ice, I was briefly knocked unconscious, Romanov, Thor, and Banner were placed under illusion spells, and Barton was blinded. When I came to I neutralized the Mandarin, got Tony to safety, then returned for everyone else."

That explained the cold. Illusion spells, though? He’d have to ask more about that later though. He didn’t understand how that had made his three capable teammates unable to neutralize the Mandarin themselves instead of everyone needing to depend on Strange. Magic is so confusing. "Thank you. For everything, I mean," he said.

Strange looked at the ground in… shame? "I did nothing that deserves gratitude," he said quietly.

"You saved all of our lives and you just thawed me out of a block of ice. I’m pretty sure that warrants gratitude," Steve replied in all of his overly earnest sincerity.

Strange looked off into the distance for a moment, seeming to decide something, then looked back at Steve, his expression suddenly blank. "Would you like me to take you to where Tony was, or possibly still is, in surgery?" he asked.

Strange was such a strange man, Steve decided, no pun intended. He nodded and followed the sorcerer when Strange twirled around in a flourish, his cape billowing, walking off at a brisk pace.

When they walked into the waiting area, Bruce looked up in surprise. He hadn’t been sitting here that long had he? "Steve! You’re ok already!"

Steve sat down heavily beside him. "Yeah, Doctor Strange here is much faster at thawing me than SHIELD. Magic, huh?"

Bruce just nodded in amazement, looking at Doctor Strange. Steve and Strange were looking at him expectantly, though, so he sighed. "No, before you ask, I haven’t heard anything." Steve visibly deflated beside him, which said a lot because he had already looked pretty deflated and miserable.

Strange opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the door to the surgical wing swinging open. Dr. Stein stepped out. She looked thoroughly exhausted. "Oh!" Bruce said in surprise. "You’re at SHIELD already. Why are you… I assumed you were cardiology..." he trailed off into a mumble at Steve’s look. Right, not the time. He was too exhausted to be thinking clearly in his defense, and seeing Dr. Stein had caught him off guard.

She shook her head, a tired smile playing around her lips. "No, just general surgery. Anyway, Tony’s stabilized guys. He’s unconscious, but he’ll live. So much for not stressing his damn body."

The relief Steve felt was dizzying. "Can we see him?"

She sighed. "Yes, two at a time for now." She looked awkwardly between the three of them.

Strange held up his hands, "That’s quite alright actually. I don’t need to see him until he awakens. Do alert me when that happens, please," he directed at Bruce. "I need to check his mind like I did yours. For now I have other matters to attend to." He popped out of existence, which to Dr. Stein’s credit, she only minorly flinched.

"Right," she muttered. "Anyway, I’m going to go catch some sleep while I can, Julie can take you to his room." She pointed towards where Julie was coming through another set of doors as she shuffled away without another word.

Julie smiled warmly. "Hey Mr. Rogers, Mr. Banner. Follow me, please." They followed her quietly into the SHIELD medical wing, where she led them to the third door on the left. She opened the door and gestured for them to go in, but stayed in the doorway herself, "Normally we have two beds to a room as I’m sure you guys know. We decided since we know the whole team will be crowding in here when he’s awake, it’s best to just take the other bed out of the way and put more chairs in. Make yourselves at home, I’ll be in to check on him in a bit."

"Thanks, Julie," Bruce said quietly before he shut the door, since Steve had already forgotten her presence. She didn’t seem offended; she was probably used to it.

Tony was a disaster. Steve slid into the chair beside the bed and took in the sight. He was covered in bandages nearly everywhere except his head. He had a breathing tube and multiple IVs, one of which was giving him blood. There was also a tube sticking out of his right rib cage. Steve idly wondered how much blood Tony had lost. His legs were both broken, his left forearm was broken, and Steve could only assume every one of his fingers on his left hand given the way the cast extended all the way down. Steve heard his own choked gasp before he noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks. Why? Why did he have to love someone with so many powerful enemies?

As sad as Bruce was to see Tony like this, he was so fucking _happy_ to see him breathing that his tears were those of joy. The last time he had seen Tony’s face it had been a cooling, lifeless body, illusion or not. Bruce didn’t even realize what he was doing until he was already gently caressing Tony’s face, just to feel the warmth. Granted, he was a little too warm for comfort, but Bruce was sure that would pass. Luckily Tony didn’t react at all to the touch, he was much too deep in sleep. Bruce looked to Steve to make sure he wasn’t angry, but Steve just looked at him with helpless fear on his face.

" Bruce," he said quietly, but it still sounded loud when it broke the silence. "Will it," he broke on a small sob, "will it always be like this? Will I always be waiting by Tony’s bedside after close calls until one time he doesn’t make it? Will he never be safe?"

How was he supposed to respond to that? These two were idiots when it came to dating and communication, so he always had to step in before they made too big of a mess because he cared about them. He had somehow become their go to advice person on relationship matters which was just nuts considering he had no one. But this? No one could possibly answer that. He had no answers. He’d give anything to be able to look Steve in the eye and say ‘no, it won’t be. This is the last time,’ but he can’t. There’s no way to know that and statistically speaking it’s improbable. He slowly sank into the chair opposite Steve. "I sincerely hope not, Steve," was all he could say.

They cried together in silence until they could produce no more tears. Bruce’s exhaustion eventually got the better of him and he fell into an uneasy sleep, upright in the visitors’ chair. Steve spent the night watching Tony breathe. His chest moved up and down at a constant pace because of the machine. Up and down, up and down. Steve found himself lost in memories of Tony laughing and good dates they’ve had when Julie came in to check on him. He was grateful that she didn’t try to make small talk, she just quietly went about her job and left. The intrusion had broken his reverie though.

His head hurt, probably from the crying and exhaustion, but he didn’t want to sleep at the moment. Something was starting to nag at him, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Seeing Julie again had made him think about Tony’s hospital stay after the heart attack. Something about that was bugging him but what was it? His care had been terrific, obviously, that’s why he’s got the same doctor and PCA again. SHIELD has decided they’re good. So that’s not it.

Tony had been a lousy patient but he always is, and he wasn’t particularly worse than usual. In fact, he had been a little better than usual under Dr. Stein’s stern rules and that’s probably another reason SHIELD had wanted her. That’s not it either. It had been difficult to get to see Tony, they had only been allowed because they’re the Avengers. If Dr. Stein had been a different doctor, Steve might have had to wait. What was it she had said? Something about immediate family… That’s it. Why wasn’t Tony his husband? Why weren’t they married yet? What were they waiting on? They lead too dangerous of lives to wait around a long time to get married, and if Tony would have him, Steve certainly knew he wanted Tony for the rest of his life. There was no one else for him at this point.

That settled it. As soon as he could, Steve would propose. It was probably better this way anyway, since knowing Tony if he had been the one to propose it would’ve been a grand, embarrassing gesture. Steve would do something small and private. He preferred their private moments, though they were hard to come by. He looked at Tony, who at least looked peaceful in his sleep. There’d be a lot of pain soon while he healed. He reached down and held Tony’s hand. His strong lover could handle pain and come out even stronger. That was one of Tony’s talents, Steve had learned. Steve would stand at the sidelines and pick him up when he needed, all the while cheering him on. That’s all he could do.

* * *

When Tony finally woke a day later, he was afraid to open his eyes. He assumed he was still in the Mandarin’s mansion, and maybe if the Mandarin thought he was unconscious, he’d stop hurting Tony. The longer he was awake, the more aware he became of the sounds around him, though, and those included the familiar sounds of a breathing machine. So he was in medical. He slowly opened his eyes, and luckily the lights were dimmed. He hated waking to bright, fucking white lights. He slid his eyes to the right and saw Steve, watching him carefully. God, the bags under Steve’s eyes. At least he wasn’t a block of ice.

Steve leaned forward when Tony met his eyes. "Hey, sweetie. I’ll call the doctor, alright?" Tony just nodded, since he obviously couldn’t speak with a tube down his throat. Steve pressed the button and held Tony’s good hand, waiting impatiently. He hoped tony could get extubated so he could speak. He also hoped Tony had enough pain medication.

Dr. Stein walked in a moment later, flipping on the lights to full capacity. Tony scowled in disgust. "Hey, Tony, good to see you awake. How are you feeling?" she asked brightly, checking his vitals and pulling out his chart. Tony just glared at her and she chuckled. "Yeah, I know. You can’t talk right now. I was just having a little fun. Now that you’re awake I’m going to try extubating you and seeing if you can breathe on your own. If that sounds alright, could you nod for me?" Tony nodded. 

Perfect!

Steve always hated watching Tony get extubated. This was the 4th time he’d seen it. It always seemed like he was choking when he’d start coughing as the tube came up. He knew Dr. Stein knew what she was doing so he just sat through it as best he could. At least if Tony could breathe on his own, he’d be able to hear Tony’s voice again. Tony took the first shuddering breath on his own, and then another before they slowly evened out.

"Hmmm, that’s a little shallow for my taste," Dr. Stein said, "but I guess it’s to be expected until your ribs finish healing. I’m going to leave the chest suction tube in for a few more days just in case."

Tony looked down at the tube sticking out of his right side. "Oh," he rasped, "so there’s that. What’s the damage? I mean, all of it?"

She sighed. "Broken femur on your right side, broken tibia on the left, broken radius on the left side, and every finger is broken on the left side. We had to put pins in those, they’ll have to be removed when it’s done healing. You had intraabdominal bleeding from the liver, small intestine, and right kidney. Both lungs had multiple punctures from your several fractured and broken ribs, but it was worse on your right side. You have 2nd degree burns across your back, down your legs, arms, the palms of your hands, and a few spots on your abdomen," she paused for a moment to look at the chart. "Yeah, I think that covers everything. You wouldn’t be here if Doctor Strange hadn’t been providing, I don’t know, magical life support I guess, for a while. You’re easily my most difficult patient."

Tony huffed out a laugh then winced. "Yeah I get that a lot."

"Alright, well the call button is on your right side if you need anything, ok?" At his nod she turned to Steve, "You can pass on the message that everyone can visit at once now if they want." With that she walked out, not bothering to wait for a reply.

Tony turned to Steve. "Sit up my bed?" he asked shyly. Yet again, he was weak and in the hospital.

"What’s the magic word?" Steve teased. Tony threw him a glare but couldn’t keep the smile off his face for long.

His expression was pained as the bed moved up, but Tony didn’t make a sound. "I’m glad you’re alright," he said. "I’m sorry you had to go through that again…"

Steve really didn’t want to talk about the ice. "It’s fine," he said, a little too sharply. "It’s not your fault," he tried again, gentler this time.

Tony clenched his unbroken hand into a fist as his face darkened. "Isn’t it though?" He asked quietly.

Steve looked at him carefully, searching his face for clues to this sudden shift, "No, it’s not," he replied firmly.

Before the discussion could go any further though, Thor burst into the room with a thunderous,"Shield brother! You awaken!" As if Tony needed told that he was awake. He smiled fondly at Thor anyway.

Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Pepper, Rhodey, Coulson, and Strange filed in behind Thor. Steve stood in surprise. "I was just about to call you, Coulson, how did you--"

Coulson held up a hand to stop Steve. "Stark’s not the only one who can watch people with the security cameras, Captain," he said wryly.

Tony threw his head back in exasperation. He had just wanted some alone time with Steve before everyone showed up. "Wait, what is Strange doing here?" Doctor Strange looked at him as though he were a petulant child. "Oh alright, you’re welcome here I guess, as long as you don’t do your mumbo jumbo. Thanks for saving all our asses by the way," he added.

Stephen Strange inclined his head humbly, "I’m deeply sorry Tony, but I have to do my ‘mumbo jumbo’ if you’ll allow it. I need to make sure the Mandarin didn’t leave any magical anchors in your mind." He started to step forward but Tony shrunk away and he stopped.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked. "Magical anchors? What are you talking about? You didn’t check me for anything. Don’t you think Tony’s been through enough?" He didn’t mean to sound so accusatory, Strange probably was trying to help, but honestly, right now? He just woke up.

"You were never put under an illusion, Captain. You can’t have any anchors placed," he sighed deeply. "Right, I should explain things. Firstly, Natasha, Bruce, and Clint have all already undergone this check and they are unharmed. The reason I need to do this is for your safety, Tony. If the Mandarin was playing around in your head, he can leave anchors in specific thoughts or emotions, which allow him to more easily enter your mind again at a later date, even from afar. It can make you into a puppet for him and leave you very vulnerable."

Tony swallowed. Fucking magic. "Right," he said carefully. "So what do I have to do?"

It was Strange’s turn to look pained. "Unfortunately, if you were placed under any illusions, you’ll have to live through them again while I watch them. What’s worse is if there is an anchor, you must let go of the thought in order for me to remove the magic, and if the Mandarin is the kind of man I believe him to be, it will be a very deeply rooted thought that’s difficult and painful to let go of."

Tony took a moment to let that sink in. "Wait, what if it’s something good that I don’t want to let go of? Like ‘I love Steve’ or something?"

Strange laughed outright, then stifled it at Steve and Tony’s looks. "Sorry, I wasn’t clear enough. No, it’ll be a negative thought. Nothing like ‘I love Steve.’"

Tony shuddered at the thought of having Strange in his head, but it was better than possibly having the Mandarin in there. "Yeah, no, of course. Whatever. Do what you need to do."

Strange looked around at the others. "This may take a minute, if you want to go do something else.." Everyone looked pretty set in place like they wanted to watch. "Suit yourselves," he said as he walked up to tony. He placed his hands to Tony’s temples, "Alright, close your eyes and relax as best you can." Tony took a deep breath.

_He was lying in bed with Steve, then talking to Clint in the practice range, then Thor, then Bruce, then Natasha. These were all familiar, he had done this before, only this time, he could tell it wasn’t real. He could feel the Mandarin pulling the strings in the background and he realized as he talked to his friends that he was giving away everything. It had been all his fault._

_Then he was flying in the suit, saving that girl from an explosion. No, not just any explosion, an explosion from one of his weapons. How many innocent people had died from his weapons? That reporter had tried to point it out and all he had done was fucked her. He profited from death. He wasn’t the good guy, he was the bad guy._

_He was at an awards ceremony for the science fair in third grade. His dad had actually come this year, he could finally see his dad clap for him! No, he wasn’t clapping. He just stood there stoically in the back. Tony walked up to his dad and showed him the gold medal proudly. Howard looked at it coldly." Your machine loses a lot of energy through heat. Why didn’t you add a cooling system? At this age you could be making things more efficiently."_ _He was right. Why was Tony so stupid? Why was he never good enough?_

" _I know men with none of that worth ten of you. I’ve seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you,_" _Steve narrowed his eyes as he said it. The words were like a knife to the chest. He wasn't wrong._

_Tony watched as Captain America took down the last guy. The man was so powerful, yet so graceful, and he used the perfect amount of force to spare the man’s life but still knock him unconscious. He was that precise. Steve removed his cowl and looked around as SHIELD agents swooped in to gather the newest prisoners. He caught Tony’s eyes and smiled. Tony smiled back at the love of his life, but his chest ached. He would never be good enough for Steve._

**There,** _Strange’s voice said into the sudden darkness. Well, not quite his voice, but since it was a thought that Tony somehow knew was Strange, it was basically his voice. Magic is weird._ **It's true, magic is weird.**

_Oh. Oh shit, Tony didn't even have to consciously think and Strange could just hear all of it. That's not terrifying or anything._

**Yes, I apologize. I've heard that can be disorienting.**

_Understatement of the century. Anyway why did he say there? That's what stopped my memories. I was having a good time in Steve land, alright?_

**Because I located the anchor.**

_Goddamnit of course there was an anchor. Not in anyone else but the Mandarin had to leave me an extra present because I'm Tony fucking Stark._

**It’s this incessant belief and thought you have that you're not good enough. You must let go of that.**

_Wait, which one? That I'm not good enough for Steve? Or I'm not good enough to be a superhero? Or a Stark? Or to deserve the friends I have? Or…_

**All of it.**

_What?_

**It’s one underlying belief that you're not good enough. Let it go.**

_I… what do you mean let it go? Just stop believing it?_

**Yes.**

_I don't… wait… no, what… fine. I don't believe it._

**Good try. I'm in your mind, you're clinging to that belief like a lifeline. What do you think it's protecting you from?**

_I don't know! I didn't even know it was such a strongly held belief. Can't you just… get rid of the anchor magic without getting rid of the thought?_

**No. They're attached now. You're essentially clinging to the magic and if you don't let go and I try to destroy it, I may destroy you as well.**

_So you need me to let go of the truth? To believe a lie?_

**Tony, it's not the truth. You are good enough. You're perfect for Steve, you're a genius, you've saved millions of lives, your friends adore you and respect you, including myself, and you are better than Howard was.**

_Oh, and you're the authority on how good I am for Steve._

**Of course not. But I do have evidence for my firm beliefs.**

_Evidence?_

**A strong enough love between two souls is a magic of it's own. It's a wild force, often uncontrollable, and may cause collateral damage. But it's also like a bond between two parts, being slowly melted together. The longer it's allowed to continue, the more inseparable the parts are without more and more damage. I can see that magic surrounding the two of you like wild fire.**

_Wild fire? It's visible? And why fire? That sounds so dangerous._

**Visible to me and others like me when looking for it yes. Cleo noticed it first, she pointed it out to me. And yes, yours is like wild fire and will probably cause a lot of collateral damage.**

_How does love cause collateral damage? That doesn't make sense._

**We won't know until it happens. But with yours and Steve's? You'll probably know that it was the two of you that caused it. Alas, that is an issue for another time. Now let go of your silly self depreciation.**

_I don't know if I can._

**You can.**

Everyone watched with rapt attention. This had gone on much longer than the others’ checks. At this point, Strange was levitating an inch or so off the ground. Clint looked over at Steve, who looked like he might vomit out of nervousness.

Tony had been mumbling things, but they were too quiet and slurred to understand. Now he started shaking his head, and his expression looked pained. "I can't," he whined.

Steve leaned forward intently, biting his lip. He looked as though he might lose it and shake Tony awake any minute. That's when tears started streaming down Tony’s face. "It's all I know," he cried out miserably.

**I'm so sorry Tony. I know this hurts. But if you don't do this, the Mandarin will be able to hurt you, to control you.**

_I can't live in fear of that either. If this is what I have to do…_

**Unfortunately,** _he sounds so sad,_ **you'll have to relive every time you thought that in order to then at the end, let it go.**

_How bad can it be?_

**I'm sorry.**

Clint watched in horror as Tony started convulsing. Steve jumped up like he was going to pull Strange away, but Strange, who Clint thought had been unaware of them anymore, held up a hand. "It's alright. You'll hurt him if you interrupt." His voice sounded as though each word were a struggle.

Steve sat down, groaning in frustration. Tony made small whimpering noises and settled down, just squirming uncomfortably. "No, no, no…" he murmured. This went on for another painfully long minute before he stopped and let out a long sigh.

**That was impressive. You have my admiration, Anthony Stark.**

Relief washed over Tony as he felt Strange’s presence leave. He felt so light, like he'd never felt before. He opened his eyes and looked at Steve with a warm smile, but Steve looked horrified. Tony looked around; in fact, everyone looked horrified.

"What's wrong? Ow," Tony grabbed his forehead.

"Ah, yes, you'll probably have a headache," Strange remarked lightly as he stepped away from the bed. "And they look like that because you showed outward signs of your distress."

"Distress, is that what you'd call it?" Steve asked incredulously.

Tony sighed. "I don't know what you guys saw, but I promise I'm fine now."

Everyone gave him a disbelieving look. "Right, so my work here is done," Strange said, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Tony stopped him. Strange turned and eyed him. "I… thank you. For everything."

Doctor Strange smiled at him. "Take care." He turned and walked away as though this were just a normal day.

The room sat in awkward silence. "Um…" Tony broke it. "I hate to be this way, but can I get some alone time with my boyfriend?"

Everyone laughed as the tension eased a little. "Yeah, yeah. You two love birds take it easy," Clint teased as they all filed out, probably headed for the cafeteria.

"What happened?" Steve asked. "Are you ok?"

Tony took his hand, although it hurt with the burns. "Yes, Steve. I'm better than ok. I had to get rid of a belief I was clinging to."

Steve looked confused. "What was it?"

"That I wasn't good enough." That broke Steve and his face crumpled. "Wait, no, Steve, it's fine now. I let go of it! What's wrong?" Tony asked hurriedly.

Steve looked up at him through tears. "You said ‘It's all I know’ and that's what you were talking about. The belief that you aren't good enough, it's all you've known."

Tony watched Steve. He hadn't known he had said anything aloud. At least the others didn't know what he was talking about if Steve didn't until now. Tony didn't know what to say to comfort Steve though. "It's my fault," Steve said miserably.

"Wait, what?" Tony asked. That was the last thing he had expected. "And how exactly does that work out?" He pulled Steve towards him, and Steve leaned his head towards Tony. Tony kissed his forehead and they leaned their foreheads together.

Steve let out a slow, shaky breath. "You've never felt good enough," he started. "From what I've gathered, even in childhood, you felt inadequate to Howard and he was a terrible father. I know you never feel good enough to be with me, and knowing you, you probably don't feel good enough to be a hero." Tony let that sink in; just how well Steve saw through him. "All of that can be traced back to me."

"How--" Tony started but Steve wasn't finished.

"Howard used to be a good man. I know," he stopped the flow of words when Tony stiffened involuntarily. "I know he never was for you, and I'm sorry. But he was a good man at one time. He fell apart and became obsessed with finding me after I went in the…"

"Ice," Tony finished for him softly.

"Yeah, that. He was too busy with that to be a husband or a father, and in his head he built me up to be this amazing pinnacle of humanity that you could never live up to. That colored your whole outlook on yourself for the rest of your life."

"Then as far as you as a hero, there's no way I helped with what I said on the helicarrier, that first time we met," he added bitterly. Before Tony could butt in he continued. "And you with me… it's my duty as your lover to make you happy and feel worthy. I've failed miserably. Yet, you still want me."

Tony waited a solid ten seconds to see if Steve had more. When he didn't continue, it was time to set this nonsense to rest. "You are in no way responsible for the way my father behaved. If it hadn't been about you, he would have found some other reason to be an asshole," Tony spat. He had to consciously reel it in. This was not the time to go on a Howard rant. "And what you said on the helicarrier was under Loki’s influence, not to mention I said some nasty things myself. I thought we had moved past that. And as far as you failing at some sacred duty as my lover, just no. There's nothing you can do if I'm not willing to change. You support me regardless and I support you. I love you and depend on you. I need you. I wouldn't have been able to get where I've gotten without you so please," Tony’s voice broke. "Just stop this nonsense."

Steve looked up at his love and their eyes locked. He could feel that his cheeks were damp again. Tony was right, if he didn't stop thinking like this, the cycle the two of them had been stuck in would be endless. There's no need to force themselves to be miserable over nothing when there were plenty of Lokis and Mandarins and Red Skulls out there to do the work for them.

Now was as good a time as any, right? "I was going to make plans first, but I can't wait," Steve started quietly, eyes never leaving Tony’s.

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked, unable to follow the sudden change.

Steve left the chair and got down on one knee. "I haven't even bought a ring yet, but I decided while you were still asleep. Will you marry me?"

Tony looked at Steve in shock. This was so out of the blue, but to be honest, why weren't they married yet? Tony could see the wedding in his mind now, it'd be awesome. He'd have to get Pepper planning right away and he's so going to make Rhodey wear the suit as best man. There will be fireworks and…

"Um, Tony?" Steve asked nervously. Tony realized he hadn't actually answered yet because he'd been too busy planning.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Yes! Of course, oh captain my captain. Steve I want to spend the rest of whatever life we have together. Now get up off the ground."

Steve smiled and let out a sigh of relief. He got back up to the chair. "Where did that brain of yours wander to this time?" he asked.

"Oh! I was planning our wedding."

Steve burst out laughing, and Tony joined in before wincing. "I love you," Steve laughed.

"I love you too," Tony said. Steve leaned in and they kissed gently. They would have plenty of time for passionate kisses. The rest of their lives, in fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read the whole way through! I put a lot of time and love into this piece and I can only hope it makes some readers as happy as it makes me. I know, I'm cheesy, but who doesn't love cheese?


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